G Chaser 3: Blood Brothers
by BDM
Summary: In the year 2070, the world has changed. For Alan Tyler, however, even the worst of these changes cannot prepare him for when the past returns to haunt him. Part one of the "Shadowrun trilogy".
1. Mean Streets

**Mean Streets**

The city morgue had been very busy of late. Ever since President Knight's term had ended, things had taken a turn for the worse once again. The country had once again become divided, the corporations seemed to become ever more ruthless and cut-throat, and the man (or elf, or orc, or dwarf or troll for that matter) in the streets seemed to be worse off than ever before. The particularly hopeless and destitute had taken to pumping themselves with drugs, brainbenders and Better-Than-Lifes, and many had wasted away without even realising it. Conflicts between street gangs were fairly common, and finding someone dead in an alley was an almost everyday experience.

The streets of Seattle were a dangerous place in these times, particularly for those who ran in the shadows. One dark Thursday night, in the month of October in the year 2070, the morgue received yet another visitor. The two morticians, Mike and Trent, hauled the body in on a stretcher. They took their time about it, seeing no point in hurrying. It wasn't like this body had to be anywhere inparticular.

"Who was it you say found him?" Mike asked his elvish partner.

"Some smackhead," Trent replied, a slightly aloof tone in his voice. "Said he was hidin' behind some bins, and no I don't know what he was doin' there. Says he saw this guy," he jerked his head in the direction of the body, "runnin' into the alley and gettin' gunned down by a group of Humanis. It wasn't pretty, apparently."

Mike looked down at the body on the stretcher, as he and Trent placed it on the large slab. While Trent opened the door of one of the body lockers and pulled out the metal tray, Mike couldn't help looking at the man's face, which was the only part of him currently exposed. His eyes of course were closed, for that was nothing new, he'd seen that hundreds of times before with bodies. Yet the stiff's appearance unnerved him, moreso the rest of the body when they had stripped him and bunged his clothes and belongings in a box.

"What do ya reckon he is?" Mike asked Trent tentatively, as they hauled the body up again and placed him on the tray. "I mean, that arm… He definitely ain't human, that's a fact."

"Oh, stop fretting," Trent said, as he slid the body into the locker and shut the door. "Probably some changeling or something. I bet that's why the Humanis lot would want him dead; they go for anything that's not them." The elf casually walked towards the door leading into the office; he had been in this line of work for years, and it showed in his casual indifference to everything. "We'll find out for sure when we cut him open in the morning."

Mike followed, still looking uneasy. "It's so strange," he said, glancing back at the drawer containing their new arrival. "He doesn't look dead to me. He just looks like he's asleep or in a coma or something."

"Some stiffs are lucky like that," Trent shrugged, walking into the office. "Come on, let's sort out the last few papers so we can lock up and get out of here. Don't want ghouls to come sniffin' round here."

Shaking his head slightly, Mike followed him out to the office, switching the lights off as he left. The elf was right, there was nothing strange about this, they had done this a lot of times before. This time wasn't going to be any different.

If Mike had stayed around for a few seconds longer, he would have heard the banging noises coming from inside the locker. He would also have seen the locker door suddenly burst open, and see the metal tray slide out. The locker's occupant had just forced open the door and slid himself out. He toppled off the tray and onto the tiled floor, gasping for breath, and very much alive. He looked all around him, blinking his eyes and gradually taking in the sights of the body lockers, the large mortuary slab, and the shelves and counters piled high with equipment and various types of fluids. The morgue was very dimly lit by the light coming through the window of the office door, but that was no trouble for the man who had been almost buried alive.

"Not again..." he muttered, in a low voice, as he picked himself up, using the sheet he had been wrapped in to cover his naked body. As Mike had commented, his appearance was indeed unusual, now that he was no longer wearing clothes. His left arm was covered in hard grey reptile scales, with the hand twisted into a four-fingered, animalistic claw. The scales also covered much of the left side of his body, including the left leg, stretching all the way to the top of his neck, and almost entirely covering the chest, waist and back. His neck seemed slightly thicker than the average human neck, and had a number of hard ridges. His eyes continued the reptilian trend, for they were golden with thin slits for pupils. Perhaps the only thing that looked even remotely human about him was his hair, which was long, a brown colour and was usually tied back, only now it draped all over the place.

Slowly, he walked towards the office door, where the sounds of chattering from Mike and Trent could be heard. He reached out his right, human hand towards the door handle and tried it. Thankfully it wasn't locked, so he swung the door open and walked into the office, trying to make sure the sheet covered his extremities.

It only occurred to him at that point how strange it must seem to see a supposedly dead person walking out of a morgue, when he saw both Mike and Trent looking at him, terrified expressions on their faces. There was a moment of silence, then the two morticians screamed in abject terror, yelling "It's alive!" before running into the nearby storeroom.

The recently-revived being simply strolled up to the door and knocked on it. He had things he needed from out of there; like clothes, for starters.

"Nothing in here but us mice!" Mike shouted through the door.

"Shut up, you fucking idiot!" Trent replied in a loud, angry whisper.

"Look, mate," the dead-man-walking said calmly. He spoke in an English accent, with a slight Yorkshire sound that he clearly tried to hide.

"All I want," he continued, "is my gear and my clothes, and I reckon you have them in there. Just pass them out here and there'll be no trouble, or do I have to come in there to get them? Either way suits me fine."

He heard frantic whispers from the other side of the door, but he could hear what was being said perfectly:

"Look, let's just give him his things and maybe he won't haunt us!" Mike was saying. "I don't wanna get in trouble with the spirits!"

"Oh, for Dunkelzahn's sake…" Trent was saying. "A ghost? He's too damn solid to be a ghost! Still… I don't wanna end up on the wrong side of that claw! Who knows what else he can do, if he can survive a shooting like that?!"

"Now who's panicking?!" Mike said, his sarcasm drowned out by his panic.

At last, the door unlocked, and Mike slid out several boxes, labelled with today's date and the nametag "John Masters", all of which the stranger took. Well, it looked like one of his fake SINS was useless now; he'd have to discard that. His real name was Alan Tyler, and he had been alive for over 100 years. Right now he was thanking his lucky stars that he hadn't been shot in the head, or it would definitely have been the end of him. He tore open the boxes and began pulling out his clothes and equipment. He couldn't go outside naked or unarmed, after all, not in this day and age.

As for Mike and Trent… Well, they didn't dare to venture out of the storage room until sometime the next morning.

***

Alan stepped out of the morgue, now fully dressed and armed, tying his hair back just the way he liked it. He had not changed his attire much in all of this time, still preferring the jeans/dark T-shirt/trenchcoat combo. The only visible differences to his appearance were his commlink, strapped to his left arm like an oversized watch, and his mutations. He gazed out around the square where the morgue was located, taking a moment to take in the sight of the fountain in the centre. It had to be the only source of beauty in this otherwise filth-strewn part of Seattle. Doubtless drunks had seen fit to defecate in it a number of times, when they couldn't be bothered to find a public toilet.

He stepped away from the morgue and back into the hustle and bustle of Seattle. The night was still young, so around him the nightlife was in full swing. Drunkards of many kinds staggered through the streets, either trying to make their way home or to another place they could drown their sorrows. Painted ladies of the night (mostly elves) offered their services for princely amounts of credits. Every so often Alan would catch sight of one of the particularly hopeless inhabitants of the slums, hooked on a BTL, their eyes glazed and a strange smile on their lips as they experienced sights that simply were not there.

This was the state of affairs in the immense sprawl of Seattle 2070; a nowhere land, full of deadbeats, down-and-outs and gang warfare. As far as Alan was concerned, it was the asshole of the universe. He had been around long enough, however, to not complain, for it suited his needs perfectly. Someone with his rather unique conditions couldn't exactly find mainstream acceptance, least of all with the Megacorps, none of which Alan could trust as far as he could throw them. After he had been made redundant in his previous 'career', shadowrunning had proven highly lucrative for him. A little espionage here, a little smuggling there... He had earned enough to pay the rent, at any rate.

As he headed down the streets littered with neon, he walked past a surly-looking troll, swinging a bottle from his gnarled fist like it was some kind of tennis racquet. Unlike much of the rest of the world, Alan had not been overly surprised when people and animals started turning into elves and orcs and vampires and just about every other fantasy creature Alan could think of. He had had advanced warning that it would happen, and so had prepared himself mentally for the changes the world was about to go through. He had been keeping himself busy in those turbulent times of the Awakening, which had helped him get used to the changed state of affairs in the world. Even less surprising had been when the dragons had started to arrive. Alan knew all too well about dragons, and that only one had ever earned his trust. That particular dragon had coined the phrase "Never deal with a dragon", ironically enough.

As the first signs of rain began to fall, Alan stepped over a group of chipheads to reach the place he had been heading to. A flashing neon sign just next to the door told anyone that noticed it that this place was called the 'Wild at Heart'. The sign also had a portrayal of a wolf howling at a bright moon. Alan had always liked that image, especially considering that much of the world outside the cities was all but uninhabitable for a variety of reasons. It reminded him of times gone by, before the madness had started.

He stepped through the door to get out of the drizzle that was rapidly becoming a downpour. The Wild at Heart was a moderate-sized bar, not a fancy joint by any means, but had a rustic, down-to-earth charm that Alan found appealing. It was not especially full, but certainly not what Alan would call 'empty'. It was quiet enough to suit Alan's ends, at any rate. What attracted Alan to this place, however, was the choice of music. It was one of the few places that played vintage rock music, music which he had essentially grown up with, but was almost completely unfamiliar to many of the bar's patrons. Currently a vintage number by Pearl Jam was blasting out of the speakers.

Alan didn't get any reaction from the patrons as he walked in. Most of them were clearly too drunk to care, and Alan in return didn't care either. He immediately crossed over to the bar, sitting himself on a stool and leaning on the graphite bar. As he counted the bottles stood on the shelves filled with brews both real and synthetic, he was rather surprised by a small robotic dragon, which suddenly flew in front of him and hovered before him, its wings threatening to knock the bottles off the bar with each flap. It gave a tinny little roar before shooting projection lasers out of its eyes, which formed into a holographic menu for Alan to read. Even the shadowrunner had to admit to being a little startled by this, considering he was used to giving his order to the owner of the bar.

"Ya like it, Ryuu?" a rough voice with a Scottish accent spoke up, chuckling. Alan looked around and his eyes soon met with those belonging to Sparks, the dwarven owner of the Wild at Heart. Sparks was a member of the small team Alan had set up for shadowruns – no sane runner worked on their own if they could avoid it – and one of the best riggers Alan had ever met. This dwarf wasn't just an expert at fixing and operating drones and vehicles, he actually _became_ those drones and vehicles given enough quiet time. Sparks wasn't his real name; he had been christened Jerry. However, they generally referred to each other by their call-signs rather than their real names. You never knew who was watching these days.

"Looking for a replacement?" Alan asked, as the robot dragon flapped onto the bar and stood there, occasionally making motions like it was cleaning its wings, like some kind of bird. "I must say I prefer a more human face, or near enough as damnit, when ordering a brew."

Sparks chuckled, and hopped up onto the stool next to Alan. He had as much hair on the top of his head as he did on his face, which was to say a lot. He looked like a brown bush.

"'E's got a lot tae learn," he said, stroking his mechanical pet. "I'm tryin' ter teach 'im tae carry trays, take orders, kick out troublemakers an' such, so's I can keep runnin' and will-nay have tae hire part-timers who'd sooner pinch me money tae feed their chip habit. He's a bit dopey righ' now, though, I 'ave tae dive into his pea-brain tae get 'im tae do any work. I'll crack the AI code one o' these days though, believe you-me!"

"Let me guess," Alan said, pointing at the mechanical creature's mane, which looked like tiny silver tentacles. "Bio-syntech?"

"Aye," Sparks nodded, proudly. "Cost me a ton o' credits, but I reckon it were worth it. Nowt finer, for him nor me."

He tapped his left arm, flexing it a little. Alan knew that was a bio-syntech arm; the dwarf had lost his real arm in an explosion a couple of years back, the result of an accident during a bungled extraction. They'd barely been able to complete that mission and save face. Saeder-Krupp hadn't been too happy with the miscalculation of judgement that had caused that explosion, but at least the job had been completed, so they'd been spared from Lofwyr's lunch menu that time. The corporation had never called Alan's team again though, but Alan didn't care; he wanted to keep taking the advice of someone much wiser than him and avoid dealing with dragons. He knew someone who'd be pretty interested in Sparks' creation, but he doubted he'd be able to speak to him without dealing with armies of security these days. Not that it mattered anyway; he avoided making contact with that person as often as he could, even if he was 'family'.

"You seen the others anywhere?" Alan asked, referring to the rest of his little four-man squad.

"Aye," Sparks said, jerking his thumb behind him to a large troll keeping to himself in a corner booth. "Oba ain't bin here long. Came bargin' in tae tell me it'd 'appened again, that you'd got yerself shot up. Have any trouble gettin' out the morgue?"

"None whatsoever," Alan said. "It wasn't like in LA. The guys there are bloody chicken, for their line of work."

All of Alan's team members knew about his peculiar ability to heal himself from seemingly-fatal wounds, but they all assumed it was an Awakened ability of some kind, and were none the wiser as to the real reason. Similarly, they paid no attention to his strange physical appearance, for it was no stranger than seeing an orc, troll or minotaur roaming the streets.

"What about Zapper?" Alan continued.

"The bloody long-ears?" Sparks said, a tone of disgust in his voice. "Ach, he wain't be showin' his face here no more, more than likely. He's all inter one of them virtual bars; stuck-up longshanks probably reckons he's too good fer us mere mortals."

Zapper was an elf, and the professional hacker on the team. There wasn't a code he couldn't crack and a system he couldn't dive in and out of almost at leisure. However, he certainly had an out-of-control ego, and seemed to look down on his non-elvish team-mates. Still, as far as hacking into the Matrix went, Alan had only met one other person better than Zapper, and that was over 60 years ago.

"Ach, never mind him," Sparks shrugged. "What'll it be?"

"Anything that doesn't taste like soy," Alan replied. "Well, I wouldn't worry about Zapper. Doubtless he's chatting up some middle-aged orc guy who masquerades as a blonde schoolgirl online."

Sparks let out a loud laugh, before reaching for a brown bottle behind the bar. There was a click as the lid was wrenched off, and Sparks handed the bottle to Alan. He took a swig of the drink, relieved to find that it wasn't that awful synthahol stuff they were making these days. Real beer was hard to come by now, but Sparks had gotten a supply through some shady deal or another that he saved for his best customers.

"Oi, Oba!" Sparks called over to the lone troll, still sat in his corner booth. "Fancy a pint?"

The troll's full name was Obatala, and he was a second-generation troll, born several years after Goblinisation had broken out across the globe. As with any other troll he was of an immense size, over 7ft. tall and with muscles seemingly bursting out of every fibre of his being. His horns were long and prominent, curling down towards his shoulders like a ram's horns, while his light brown hair and sideburns looked as wild and unkempt at the rest of him. He dressed very simply, wearing a dark green vest, grey trousers and large black boots. He raised his head and simply shook it, declining Sparks' offer.

"Ach," the dwarf sighed, turning back to Alan. "Who spat in his soy this mornin'?"

"He's just quiet," Alan said. "Don't let it bother you. He's not used to people treating him like something other than shit, and he's finding it hard to adjust."

"Ah well," Sparks said. "So here's tae yet another new life for ya," he finished, clinking his own bottle with Alan's. "I suppose yer'll be wantin' a place to crash while yer get everythin' sorted with yer new SIN?"

"Yeah," Alan said. "Your floor still comfortable?"

Sparks chuckled. "Ah've no' cleaned it since last time," he said. "That'll be a new experience for yer."

Alan simply shrugged. He had squatted before, so this would not be a new experience for him, after all. Hopefully it would only take a few days before he received everything via his new identity; in his will, John Masters had left everything he owned to his new identity. Alan was surprised the authorities hadn't cottoned on to the fact that he was basically SINless, like so many others after the second Matrix Crash, but he had paid good money for the best fake SINs possible.

The door to the bar opened again, but Alan didn't turn around to see who had walked in. If he had, he would have seen three humans, all of them wearing identical loose shirts which exposed their bare chests. Each had an Ingram strapped to their sides, and all of them had thuggish looks on their faces. Nobody batted an eyelid when they walked inside and walked up to the bar. Sparks didn't pay much attention to them until one of them kept his gaze fixed on Alan, a puzzled look on his face. When he saw the thug's eyes widen and turn to his closest companion, the dwarf knew there was going to be trouble. He ducked down behind the bar and began to concentrate. Over in the corner, Obatala also kept an eye on the scene; he could feel hostile auras coming from them and knew trouble was afoot.

"Kano..." the thug who had taken an interest in Alan said, in a low tone, to his companion. "Look... Isn't that the guy...?"

Kano turned to look where his friend was looking. As he saw Alan, quietly drinking his beer like nothing strange was happening, he turned a deep shade of scarlet. He sidled over to Alan.

"You..." he snarled, his eyes narrowed. "How the fuck did you survive?!"

Alan finally decided to pay the trio some attention, turning to look at them, his face completely calm. He recognised the three instantly; goons from the Humanis Policlub, who had been in the process of beating up a dwarf family and wrecking their home when Alan had arrived on the scene. There had only been one of them there; Alan had not seen the other two until they had started firing shots, forcing him to retreat into that alley, where they had unloaded their Ingram clips into him. Luckily, they had not shot him in the head.

"Just lucky, I guess," Alan said, in a completely conversational tone. Now that they were in front of him, he knew he could handle them all. He also had backup this time, which he knew was a bonus.

Kano roared, pulling out his Ingram and aiming it at Alan's forehead.

"I'll get you this time, you freak!!" he bellowed. At this, the other patrons dived for cover under their tables, sensing a fight was about to break out.

Just as Kano was about to squeeze the trigger, Sparks' robot dragon suddenly launched itself at the goon, grabbing his gun neatly out of his hand. It took off towards the door, wings flapping like crazy, the gun held tightly in its small claws. Kano chased after the dragon, but it suddenly spun around and opened its mouth. Instead of a tinny roar, now a blast like a thunderbolt shot out of its mouth. This electro-blast was powerful enough to bring Kano to his knees, seething with pain. To add insult to injury, the dragon jerked its claws, neatly snapping Kano's beloved Ingram in two.

While that was happening, Kano's flunkies tried to draw their own pistols, but Alan suddenly lashed out with his left, claw-like hand, slashing the closest goon across his face. His face was instantly cut open. Half-blinded and agonised, the goon stumbled onto the floor, hands clutching his face as blood began to pour down it. He knocked his companion backwards as he fell hard on the floor, crying out in agony.

Even as he landed, however, he suddenly felt a tightening sensation around his arms, a sensation which rapidly spread to his chest, and eventually his entire body. He pulled his hands away from his face, only to find them suddenly pinned to his sides by plant roots, which had suddenly grown out of the floor and bound him securely from head to toe. He looked around, panic-stricken, to find Obatala stood over him, his hands pulsing with a green light, and his eyes glowing a green colour. He had a look of utmost fury on his brutish face. The goon tried to scream for help, but his mouth was suddenly bound shut by another root. As he was slowly pulled helplessly under the floor, he found he was having difficulty breathing.

Meanwhile, the third goon had regained his composure, had seen his friend in trouble, and was about to raise his Ingram at Obatala. However, there was a loud snap and something wound tightly round his arm, so tightly it was actually cutting into his wrist. The sudden pain in his arm caused him to drop his gun, and he cried out, looking at his wrist to find it bound in nanowire. It was the tip of a monofilament whip, the other end of which was held by Alan. The goon tried to struggle with the tightly-bound whip, but Alan gave a particularly sharp tug, and as the whip was unwound, it ripped the goon's wrist open. The unfortunate Humanis screamed with blinding agony, as blood poured everywhere out of the slashed wound. He looked around sharply, desperately trying to stop the blood flow. It must have finally occurred to him that he was now outnumbered and outclassed, for he turned and half-ran, half-stumbled out of the bar and into the sprawl.

Alan sighed, retracting his whip back into the haft of the weapon. He heard a zap and a loud thud as Kano fell to the floor, having being shocked by Sparks' pet at least a dozen times. The last goon's grave was marked with a large gap in the floorboards, covered up with plant roots. Looking behind the bar, Alan could see Sparks himself, his eyes open but glazed over, not looking at anything at all. Noticing Sparks' wireless implant on the side of his head, Alan knew the dwarf was seeing through other eyes now. Almost as if on cue, Sparks' pet flapped over and landed on Alan's shoulder. They both looked back towards Kano's still-smoking body.

"I think I overdid it somewhat," Sparks' voice could be heard saying. The dragon's mouth was open, and Sparks' voice could be heard coming from it. It was a neat trick, Alan thought, but it was a pity the mouth didn't properly synch with his words. "I'm no' pickin' up any life signs from the bastard. Got what he deserved, though." The robotic head turned to look at Obatala, who now looked much more like the 'gentle giant' Alan was most familiar with. The troll was a shaman, a gifted healer and deeply attuned to the workings of the natural world. It was small wonder he had been able to call on aid from the planet itself.

"Tha' were a bit 'arsh, Oba," Sparks said to the troll, though with a trace of amusement in his tone.

"I am truly sorry about the floor," Obatala said in a deep, resonant voice. Given Obatala's fearsome appearance, and the fact that trolls had a reputation for being illiterate or stupid, it amazed Alan at just how well-spoken his troll friend was. "I shall pay the costs of the repairs of the floor."

"Ye'd better," Sparks chuckled, "or I'm takin' it outta yer share of the loot on t'next run."

He turned to look at Alan. "Do you know who they were anyway?"

"Yeah," Alan nodded. "Humanis. They were the reason I had to climb out of a body locker earlier."

"Ach..." Sparks moaned, shaking the robotic head. "I'll have ter shift tha' body; cannae have a bloody Humanis buried under me bar. Could be bad luck, for all I know."

The trio of Shadowrunners looked around at the sorry state of the bar, the various patrons now emerging from their hiding places, staring at them with wide eyes. All three of them; Alan, Obatala, and Sparks, looked completely nonplussed.

"What?" Sparks asked, peering at the customers through the eyes of his newest creation. "Can a man no' protect his business these days?"


	2. A Far from Honest Job

**A Far-from-Honest Job**

Alan was no stranger to squatting. He'd spent a lot of the long years staying in one run-down building or another. Not that the Wild at Heart was run-down, but it was hard to stay in a single room with only a floor to sleep on when you were used to a small apartment. He was just thankful he hadn't had to resort to one of those 'coffin hotels' some people used these days. Alan was slightly claustrophobic, so that sort of place didn't suit well with him at all.

It was about 9:27am, the morning after the incident with the Humanis goons. He'd spent half the night helping Sparks and Obatala get the two bodies out of the bar and dump them in some dumpster somewhere. That had involved a lot of digging and DIY, but they'd eventually got the job done. If Alan had to guess, he had only had about two hours worth of sleep. As he yawned and opened his eyes, he was annoyed to learn that he had shifted his position during the night and had ended up resting his head on his left arm, the one that was covered in reptile scales. He was surprised he had not been woken up by that, for the scales were hard and sometimes poked him. He guessed that wouldn't make any difference once the rest of his body was covered, whenever that might happen.

He slowly pulled himself off the floor and stretched. He stepped out of the back room, crossing the bar floor and heading into the small office behind the bar itself. He hadn't even bothered to get dressed, and he was thankful that there were no windows in this place. There were windows on the next floor, where Sparks' apartment was, but Alan couldn't stay there; Oba was lodging in the spare room, and Sparks wasn't the type to let anyone stay if they weren't going to pay for the privilege.

In the office he was greeted by Sparks' robotic pet. It rose itself, making a motion to imitate yawning, and flapped over onto Alan's shoulder. It started teasing his hair playfully, but Alan was too tired to care. His hair always looked bad on a morning anyway. He let the little droid stay on his shoulder while he searched. Eventually he found what he was looking for; a coffee machine. He fixed himself a mug of sludgy brown coffee (or a close enough approximation of it anyway) and found himself looking at a mirror.

Alan's reflection, which also seemed to be in an early-morning stupor, just gazed back at him. Looking at himself, Alan saw a number of 'creases' on the left side of his face, where he had been resting it on his reptilian arm. There weren't many of these creases, because parts of that side of Alan's face had scales too. Whenever Alan was dressed, however, it'd be hard to tell this feature apart from him unless you looked closely. It could be passed off as a tribal tattoo. What couldn't be were his left arm, his left leg and over half of his body, which were also covered in scales. Alan had the feeling that the skin would be the first thing to go, but he didn't know what would follow or when it would happen. All he knew that his mutations hadn't ended, they just moved slowly.

He was a Godzilla. There was no point denying that. 70 years ago he had been an unwilling participant in an experiment with Organiser G-1, the amino acid in Godzilla's body that effectively made him indestructible. The experiment had actually caused a fusion of Alan's own DNA and Godzilla's, but now Organiser G-1 was mutating him into a form that better suited its needs; Godzilla's. Alan had found means of delaying the process, but he was only delaying the inevitable.

Naturally he had not told any of this to his shadowrunning team, for he knew it would freak even them to no end. It would freak just about anybody. Nowadays Godzilla was little more than a legend or ghost story. He had not been seen for over 60 years, and Alan knew why. He really didn't want people to know that Godzilla was in cryogenic sleep in the Antarctic, or that he had a 'son' running around in Seattle as a shadowrunner. Alan actually found this rather funny, considering people seemed quite happy to have another member of the Godzilla family for a President a few years back.

The other side-effect of having Godzilla's immune system was that Alan hadn't shown any signs of aging since the procedure, nor had he ever got sick. He tried not to delude himself into thinking he was immortal, but he had been kept alive long enough to witness the changing of the world around him, as it endured the Awakening and the various horrors that plagued the world after it. He remembered the crashing of the Internet, the mutations that brought about elves and dwarves, not to mention orcs and trolls a few years later, alongside countless other new species. He remembered when magic became more widespread, the many climate changes, the wars between the many factions fighting over the country, and the appearance of the dragons. He remembered Dunkelzahn's first appearance, his rise to presidency, and his subsequent assassination, which had lead to President Knight's reign. He remembered how Chicago became a warzone, because of Ghostwalker and those creepy insect spirits known as the Invae. Alan himself had fought against them a couple of times. Much had happened to this poor, sorry planet, and Alan had witnessed it all. He had the photos to prove it.

He sighed, turning to move back towards the back room. He took his coffee and the dragon with him, and when he was back in the makeshift bedroom he set about getting himself dressed. It was after he had put on his jeans when he heard a beeping coming from his commlink, and a tinny voice saying "incoming call". He reached over to his commlink and strapped it onto his left wrist. He tapped the small button on the side to answer the call; the only function on the commlink that wasn't touch-screen. A familiar face filled Alan's screen. It was the face of a man who looked in his mid-40s, with strangely silver hair that was short and neatly-cut. It was the man known to Alan and his team as "Mr. Johnson", their contact and fixer who found them work. They had never learned of Johnson's real identity, even though he had hired them several times over the past few years; Zapper had tried to find out who he was through his hacking, but with no success. The man had covered his tracks far too well.

"Ah, good morning, Ryuu," Johnson said, addressing Alan by his codename. "I trust it is not too much to ask for a prompt answering of a phone call in the future?"

"Wha?" Alan said, still not completely awake. "How long have you been ringing?"

"For about ten minutes now," Johnson said, but without any sign of irritation in his voice. "I took the liberty of making this line secure. Not even your hacker friend can listen in."

"Don't miss a trick, do you?" Alan said, sardonically. He stroked Sparks' pet as he spoke. Johnson chuckled.

"In my line of work, Ryuu," he said, "such care must be taken. My employer wouldn't want any rivals to steal his most prized runners."

"I bet you say that to all the runners," he said, mocking jealousy. Again, Johnson just chuckled in reply. Alan had never been successful in winding him up the wrong way or making him losing his temper, despite his best efforts.

"We have a job for you and your team," Johnson finally said.

"Please tell me it's to check up on your wife," Alan said. He didn't actually know if Johnson was married, but it didn't hurt to find out.

"It shouldn't be difficult," Johnson said, choosing to ignore Alan's statement. "I think you'll like it, but we'll talk some more about it when we meet tonight. I trust the back room of the Wild at Heart is still in serviceable condition?"

Alan looked around him. It seemed alright to him. Then again, the only time Alan would consider this room unfit was if the ceiling suddenly caved in.

"Yeah, I guess," Alan replied.

"Good," Johnson said, smirking. "I will arrive at 1900 hours tonight. Have the room ready for me, and I shall speak to you then. Good day, Ryuu."

With that, Johnson promptly hung up. It was always the way with him; straight to business, and leaving no traces. As Alan pulled on the rest of his clothes, he wondered just how much he and his team would 'enjoy' this assignment. If it was anything like that job they did for Saeder-Krupp, he was quitting shadowrunning forever.

***

Once again, it was a quiet night in the Wild at Heart. The bar was never usually busy, because most weren't even aware it existed. That suited the proprietors and the few patrons fine, considering the shady deals that often went on in the place, particularly in the back room.

Alan had to admit that he wasn't in any particular mood to be talking to the team's fixer about the new job, but Johnson was adamant on speaking to Alan only. Alan had never understood why that was the case. He admitted to himself that Sparks' people skills were much more commendable than his own, and the dwarf was equally capable of understanding what needed to be done and passing messages along. Still, Johnson insisted on only ever speaking to Alan. None of the team had ever been able to figure out why, considering Alan often displayed as much tact and subtlety as a pipe-bomb in the mouth. He had always had trouble showing respect to the various authority figures in his life, particularly after he had learned of the procedure which had given him his present condition. Still, they needed the money, so it was one of those conditions they'd had to adjust to.

Alan had spent that day arranging everything for his new SIN and getting set up with his new alias' accommodation. Luckily the transfer of his old possessions had gone off largely without a hitch. Those fake SINs were proving to be a good investment, when he considered the fortune he had paid for them. He was now using a new SIN, by name of Mike Anderson. That was his public face, of course, and he wondered how long he could keep the act up before he was found out.

Before he had reached the Wild at Heart, he had been accosted by more Humanis goons in one of the many filth-strewn alleys in the city. Apparently, they were seeking revenge for their fallen comrades from the other night. Fortunately, these ones had proved to be just as dumb as their brethren, not bothering with any sign of subtlety or even guns. Alan had dropped all of them, whether it was through gunshots or tearing them to ribbons with the whip. This time he was careful not to leave any alive; he didn't want any of them to run off and let more of their people know who he was and where he could be found. He only hoped they didn't decide to send snipers next.

By the time he reached the Wild at Heart, it was a little after 1900. He knew how much Johnson prized punctuality, but on this occasion he'd have to disappoint him. As he walked in, the bar was starting to fill nicely, and a classic Elbow song was playing. Songs like this were not easy to come by, but Alan found them infinitely preferable to whatever corporation-approved tripe was playing on the airwaves these days. It looked like it would be a good night business-wise. He nodded at Sparks as he walked across to the back room; both of them knew Johnson was already here.

The back room was dimly-lit, but at least it was in a much more serviceable condition than when Alan had first woken up that day, with no trace of anyone squatting there. Sat at the small table was the silver-haired, smartly-suited Mr. Johnson. He was flanked on both sides by two tough-looking troll bodyguards, neither of whom let their expressions change nor drop their tough demeanour. Johnson put his hands together as Alan entered. A sly smile was on his lips.

"Ah, welcome, Ryuu," Johnson said, even as Alan sat himself down. "You're late; by about three minutes and forty-two seconds, to be exact. Your standards of punctuality are slipping."

"So would yours if you'd been nearly mugged by fanatics," Alan replied sardonically. He wasn't in much of a mood to put up with Johnson's aloofness tonight. He wished Sparks could've handled the negotiations, but Johnson wouldn't have any of it.

"Ah yes," Johnson said, a gleam in his hazel eyes. "It's no secret to my employer how little you regard those blind zealots of the Humanis Policlub. It is why he chose you specifically for this little assignment. He believes you should enjoy this."

Alan clasped his hands together, in a gesture of mock prayer. "Please tell me another nutter wants to release Godzilla," he said. He was referring to a mission he had some years ago, when a terrorist group had somehow learned that Godzilla was very much alive, and had captured the Antarctic base where Godzilla was kept in cryo-stasis. They had been part of some kind of liberation front for some supposedly-oppressed nation in the former United States, threatening to release Godzilla on the world unless their demands were met. Now they were either rotting in prison or buried below the ice.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Ryuu," Johnson said, "but there will be no trips abroad on this occasion. This is much closer to home." He handed Alan what looked like a datacard he could plug into his commlink.

"Most of what you need to know is on there," the fixer continued, "but here is the long and short of it. The Humanis Policlub is making very strange movements of late. They seem to be bringing in a lot of their number from across the country. Their public face, of course, continues to preach for human rights, but this movement of their numbers suggests they're up to something."

Alan looked at the card while listening to Johnson's words. Alan hated the Humanis and other groups like them. He could see why Johnson had said Alan would 'enjoy' the assignment, but he had the feeling this assignment wasn't going to be much fun.

"Your first assignment then," Johnson wrapped up, "is recon. We want you to go to the location described on that datacard. We have determined that the Humanis members are gathering at that point, and chances are good that whoever is organising their movements will be present. We want you to find out what it is they're up to. Afterwards, we can decide what can be done about them."

"Just one question," Alan said, after Johnson had finally decided to shut up. "What's your employer getting out of this? Why would he care what a bunch of racist fuckheads are doing?"

"As it happens," Johnson said, his face looking slightly grave, "his best customers and business partners are metahumans, and most of them have taken residence in Seattle. It would not be good business sense to let any harm come to them, and we both know what exactly the Humanis loves to do to anything that isn't them."

"Oh, I see..." Alan said, arching an eyebrow. "Your boss is just looking after his walking moneybags."

"If you wish to put it like that, then yes," Johnson said, a trace of a smile crossing his lips. Alan knew exactly how the corporations thought. All they cared about was the bottom line.

_As if any of them would look to protect life purely because it was the right thing to do,_ he thought bitterly. _Har-fucking-har_.

"The usual payment applies. A quarter up-front, and the rest when the job is done," Johnson said. "I trust this is acceptable?"

Alan nodded. Johnson's rates of pay were usually fair, and he saw no good reason why he'd screw them this time.

"Very well then," Johnson said, standing up to leave. "The rest of the information you need is on the card. I trust you'll carry out your mission with as little fuss as possible."

"You don't trust us, do you?" Alan asked, in a rather snarky tone.

"Trust can be misplaced, Ryuu," Johnson said, smirking. "I've been around long enough to understand that better than most. I could shock you with the stories I am privy to." He tipped his head to Alan. "Good day. Assuming your mission is successful, we'll meet again soon."

With that, he walked out, his two burly bodyguards right behind him. As he walked out, Alan could hear that Lynyrd Skynyrd's 'Free Bird' was playing over the speakers. Maybe Alan was imagining it, but as Johnson paused for a moment he thought he saw Johnson mouth the words "My favourite" before he left.

In any case, Alan switched on his commlink and brought up Zapper's frequency. He knew the elf would have attempted to hack Johnson's line again, and find out who he was and who he worked for. They tried this every time Johnson contacted them, with no success.

"Any luck this time, mate?" Alan asked, though he could take a guess as to the answer.

"Nothin' again," Zapper's avatar – a cartoony green lion – replied. "I swear he's tightened up his systems since last time, as if they needed tightening up any further."

"I should've known," Alan replied. "Whoever this guy is, he never misses a trick."

"So what's the job this time?" Zapper asked.

"Doesn't sound tough," Alan said, plugging the datacard he had received into his commlink. "I'm sending you the data now. Make sure the line's secure, and pass it on to Sparks and Obatala."

Even as Zapper carried out Alan's instructions, Alan looked back towards the entrance to the back room, cursing Johnson's security network. He really wanted to hit that guy some days, but didn't fancy risking being on the receiving end of a punch from a troll. He'd heard they really stung.


	3. I Spy

**I Spy**

The mission was a simple surveillance mission on the gathering site of the Humanis members. According to the data that had been supplied by Johnson, they were gathering in some run-down hotel that had been abandoned years before. They apparently had managed to get the old generators working, so the place had electricity flowing through it, but the surveillance and security systems had been stripped out to be recycled elsewhere. So surveillance was to be done the old-fashioned way, with no hacking possible, otherwise this mission could have been done in a snap. Zapper wanted the night off, but he was still needed to prime and maintain the surveillance equipment they would be using. This annoyed Zapper, who wanted to continue chatting up an apparent 'cutie' he met on the Matrix, but none of the others were having it.

The hotel was located on the waterfront, not far from an old shipyard. The sea was a little rough tonight, and the sounds of the lapping waves would be sufficient to mask their moves slightly. They had decided that they would infiltrate the building using the old fire escape. So Sparks' armoured van pulled up into the alley beside the building three doors down. This whole district was abandoned, and rumour had it one of the corporations would be demolishing it soon for some new facilities. Alan considered it fortunate that the Humanis had picked such an out-of-the-way place for this convention of theirs. There would be no interference.

Almost as soon as the van stopped, Alan clambered out of the side door into the dark alley. He ran through the decrepit alleyways, vaulting over the occasional wire fence that he came across, until finally he was at the right building. Several lights were on, and Alan could just make out the sounds of drunken revelry coming from some of the rooms. The alley was strewn with assorted junk; some of it seemed to be furniture from the hotel itself. As quietly as he could manage, Alan climbed onto a stack of assorted furnishings and vaulted himself over to the fire escape.

The fire escape was very rusty, and Alan was sure it would give way with one false move. To try and reduce the noise of him climbing the ladders slightly, he pulled his boots off and carried them as he climbed. Some parts of the ladders rattled dangerously, and Alan was sure one of the Humanis would stick their head out of the window and see him. Luckily, none of them did. Now that Alan thought about it, the sounds of revelry seemed to be coming from another part of the building entirely, and they'd forgotten to turn the lights out in their rooms. He raised his commlink up and brought up Sparks' frequency.

"Sparks?" he said in a loud whisper. "Sparks? Are you in position yet?"

"Aye," Sparks' voice crackled on the other end. "Looks like most of 'em are in t'old dinin' room. Pissed as farts, they are. I reckon yer safe fer a bit."

"Cheers," Alan said. "Keep me updated. I'm gonna see if there's anybody on the upper floors."

Alan resumed his climb, until he was almost at the top floor. By now he was on the 12th floor, and the drunken yells were dying away. Now he could hear new voices, a frantic conversation in one of the rooms on the 12th floor. Fortunately the ledge that ran around the floor just underneath the windows was wide enough to stand on, so Alan carefully shuffled his way around the ledge to the window where the noise was coming from. Alan was thankful that he wasn't afraid of heights, but he was afraid at just how long the cracked mortar would last under his weight.

Finally, Alan reached the source of the conversation; the fourth window along on the west side. Carefully, Alan reached into a small belt-pouch and pulled out a tiny camera on the end of a long cord. Zapper would be manipulating the camera through the use of a wireless interface. Fortunately the window was open by just a crack, but a crack was still large enough for Alan to slip the camera through. It twitched slightly as Zapper patched into the camera and began to operate it. Alan could see what the camera saw on his commlink. Another screen showed what Spark's little mascot was seeing down on the first floor, and Alan could see the drunken revellers, all wearing their hoods like their spiritual ancestors, the KKK. They never wore them in the streets these days, only as a ceremonial item.

On the camera's screen, Alan could see two men in the dark and somewhat drafty room. The room's wallpaper was peeling off, and with only a single bed for furniture, on which sat an exhausted-looking human, presumably a Humanis, sat with his head in his hands. The other guy was on his feet, and Alan recognised him as one Silas Hatherly, a key figure in the Humanis' operations in Seattle and the main speaker on the propaganda videos Alan had seen played in the streets. He stood straight, with slick blonde hair and a blazing red robe. Presumably it was worn for these private Humanis get-togethers, for Alan had only seen him wearing a smart business suit in his videos. Alan fought an urge to be violently sick because of the images he was seeing.

"Can you not see it, Larcen?!" Silas was saying indignantly, for Alan could hear everything through his headset. "The Sons destroyed, by our hand! It will be a great sign of humanity's superiority to those vermin, and will remind all of Seattle that the Earth is ours by right! Humanity's future has never looked brighter."

"Yes, but all out war?" Larcen, clearly the more rational of the two, chimed in. "You realise we're going into a war against the Sons, right in the middle of a sprawl full of civilians no less! What if something goes wrong? What about the authorities? What if our former 'president'," he continued, gesturing quotation marks, "gets wind of this?"

"What if you get a speeding ticket for that little stunt drive you decided to try your hand at five years ago?" Silas said, a trace of sarcasm in his voice.

"Look," Larcen said, "it's just a gut feeling, sir, of what, erm, may be."

"You are wrong to look there," Silas said, walking slowly towards Larcen. Without warning, he raised his fist and punched Larcen's midsection. The subordinate doubled over straightaway, and fell off the bed.

"Is your belief so flat, huh?!" Silas roared indignantly, as Larcen struggled to recover his breath. He coughed and spluttered, and for a moment Alan thought Silas had done him a serious injury, not that it mattered to him if one more Humanis lived or died. Silas them took on a much calmer demeanour, and kneeled down next to Larcen, helping the unfortunate man to his feet.

"Relax," Silas said. "Breathe deep". He helped Larcen onto the bed, and he slowly started to recover. He pushed his long black hair aside and rubbed his midsection. He still grimaced every so often.

"The gut, Larcen," Silas said, in the manner of a school headmaster, "is no more than a part of our anatomy that is designed to digest food. Have faith, brother. This is not something I wasn't prepared for."

"What do you mean?" Larcen said. "You know the risks we are taking? Our public profile could be damaged forever, should the authorities trace it back to us. I don't think even your predecessor would have attempted an operation this large."

"Larcen old friend," Silas said, "I have seen this coming for some time. It is my destiny to fight in our holy crusade against the impure, and I have been chosen to fight. Our time truly is now. I have seen it; this day, this year, the time is right. You'll soon see that your faith in us is well-placed."

Larcen stood to his feet. He looked more reassured now, even if not completely. He nodded at Silas, who seemed pleased with Larcen's new-found subservience.

"My faith has always been in our organisation and our goal, Silas," he said. "Now it's time to greet our brothers in the dining hall. They are expecting you."

"Yes," Silas said, reaching for his own ceremonial hood, which was as blood-red as his robes. "Let's not keep them waiting."

With that, the two of them departed. Alan was glad that was over. He had been fighting every urge in his body to jump through the window and fill them both full of bullet-holes. By the sounds of it, the Humanis were preparing for something big. Doubtless Sparks would find out what was going on in the big gathering. So Alan carefully made his way back towards the alley.

As he shimmied back to the fire escape, part of the ledge gave way, and Alan was forced to grab onto what was left to save his neck. He didn't like the idea of his shins sticking out of his shoulders, even though he knew he'd recover from the fall eventually. The mortar smashed loudly against the floor, and Alan prayed that none of the Humanis had heard that and would go outside to check the noise. With some difficulty, he reached the fire escape, climbed back down into the alley and headed back towards the truck. He quickly climbed in.

"Did you get it?" he asked Zapper. The dark-skinned elf was sat at the small control console inside the van, wearing his baggy shirt and jeans, his hair black and spiky. Through some quirk, his ears were longer than even most elves and with very sharp tips. He nodded as Alan entered.

"Got it all," he said. "I'm still streaming in Sparks' footage as well. It's comin' up nice and clear. He gave that little droid of his nice optics."

Alan nodded, leaning back in his seat. He looked at his scaled left arm, and the claw on the end. He couldn't help it. He had seen it a million times before, but he couldn't help being drawn to it. He knew he would have to stop looking at it, for it served as a constant reminder of what he was to one day become.

"Hey," Zapper said, "I had a bit of spare time, so I found out a little bit of trivia about the hotel. It used to be called the 'Unlucky for Some'. The owners thought it was a really clever joke, since the hotel had thirteen floors."

"Did they get much business?" Alan asked.

"Nope," Zapper replied. "The owner always denied that it was because of superstition, though. Then again, he was one of the down-to-earth sorts. Didn't want to believe in magic, even well after it was well-documented."

Alan nodded again. Zapper often came out with useless trivia. Alan often thought that if Zapper used that brain for real information as much as he did for dumb filler, then he'd be the most dangerous being alive. After another ten minutes, Sparks' dragon entered the truck. Sparks' mind was, of course, in the dragon itself.

"Nice work, Sparks," Zapper said. "We got it all."

"I take it you transmitted it all to Johnson, like the instructions said?" Alan asked.

"Done and done," Zapper said, as if he was slightly proud of it. "And no, I haven't been able to figure out who he is."

"So yer actually doin' summat useful, long-shanks?" Sparks said, the muzzle of the dragon twisting into an oddly-deformed grin. "No' jus' chattin' up old-age pensioners on the net?"

"Hardy-har-har," Zapper said. It was then that there was a beeping on his console; it was the indicator of an incoming message. Zapper brought it up and looked at it. Alan recognised the face on the screen as belonging to Johnson.

"What does he want?" Alan asked, for the volume on the console was turned down low and he couldn't hear the message.

"He wants to meet us as soon as we get back, at the Wild at Heart," Zapper said, sounding a little surprised. "He's on his way there now, Sparks. You'd better get ready."

"Aye," Sparks said. "I'll see yer there. Signin' off." With that, there was an electronic click, which was the sign Sparks had returned to his body. His dragon once again flew over to Alan's shoulder.

"Right then," Zapper said, as the seat he was sitting on glided smoothly back into the driver's position. "Let's roll." He started the engine, and with a squealing of tires the jeep left the alley and started to make its way back to the sprawl.

"Meeting Johnson twice in a row..." Alan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh joy and rapture."

"What you got against him anyway?" Zapper asked. "He always pays us well and keeps to his word. What's not to like?"

"He reminds me of my grandad," Alan replied, with a pained expression. "Enough said."

***

The journey back to the Wild at Heart was an uneventful one. Alan spent most of the time looking out of the darkened windows at the scenes of what happened in Seattle when the lights went out. The assorted drunks were weaving their ways through the city streets, while in the distance huge smokestacks pumped their noxious chemicals into the sky. Alan could hear thunder cracking in the distance, and a mere five minutes later, the rain fell hard against the asphalt, so hard as to bounce off of it. Every now and then there was a flash as lightning raced across the sky overhead. These days it was getting harder to tell if storms like this were still natural or if one of the dragons brought them down every so often.

Alan and Zapper arrived back at the Wild at Heart in good time. Zapper pulled the van into an alley beside the bar, and pressed a button on the dashboard. Part of the wall in the deepest part of the alley opened up, revealing the garage where the group stashed the van. It was a convenient means of hiding the van should they ever be followed. As they parked the van, the wall slid neatly back into place. Both of the shadowrunners climbed out of the van and walked through the door inside, which lead to the back room of the bar.

Alan wasn't particularly pleased to find Mr. Johnson already sat there, with his two troll bodyguards stood right behind him. Also sat at the table was an orc Alan didn't recognise. This orc looked about the same age as Alan, or at least the age Alan was back in 1999. His jet-black hair was long but balding on top, and tied into two braids that ran down either side of his head. His lower jawbone was large and the tusks were very prominent, and he had a small, piggy nose and pointed ears. He was currently wearing a black vest and tan trousers over his muscular body. Unlike most orcs Alan had seen, this one had dyed his skin a deep emerald green; some people had the weirdest taste in body modification these days. In spite of himself, Alan was not particularly keen on orcs, not since the day he'd accidentally wandered into a less-than-friendly orc bar and had put half of the occupants in hospital before being thrown out onto the street.

"Ah, welcome Ryuu," Johnson smiled as Alan sat down. Zapper too pulled up a chair, throwing the orc a very dirty look. "I hope you don't mind, but I asked Sparks if we could wait for you in here. I've no interest in drink tonight, not when we have much to discuss."

"Yeah, whatever," Alan said, giving an indifferent shrug. "I take it you saw the data Zapper sent you?"

"Yes, I did," Johnson said, placing his fingers together in a pyramid shape. "It made for very interesting viewing, especially after other information that has been brought to my employer's attention."

"What do you mean?" Alan asked. "What's this 'other information'?" Alan didn't look pleased that Johnson had hidden something from him; if he didn't know all of the facts how could he do his job?

"At exactly the same time as we got wind of the Humanis Policlub's movements," Johnson explained, "we started hearing reports of similar movements made by the Sons of Sauron. Large numbers of theirs have also been converging in Seattle in recent days. We had Berokash here," he broke off, indicating the orc at the table, "look into it. His findings are very similar to yours on the Humanis. Take a look at this..."

Johnson placed a small holo-projector on the table, and loaded a datadisk into it. He pressed a few buttons on the device, and two screens projected themselves, their flat images hovering just above the table. Alan could clearly see that one of them was the footage Sparks recovered, of the grand Humanis conference. There was Silas, in full ceremonial garb, preaching his sermon of cleansing the Earth of the "filth" on it. The other screen displayed a similar meeting, only this time with many orcs gathered to hear their speaker. He was a fierce-looking, dark-skinned orc dressed in full battle armour, with very long braided hair and what looked like warpaint on his face. His right hand wasn't actually a hand, but a huge blade that he swung dangerously.

"He's an ugly bugger," Alan said.

"He calls himself Kargath Bladefist," Berokash spoke up, in a very deep, guttural voice. "He recently took over as the leader of the Sons of Sauron. Doubtless the old leader's ended up in the river. He's been mouthing off about 'making an example' out of humans, saying that they're weak and need to be dealt with once and for all. Of course, the rest of the Sons lapped up this idea."

Alan nodded, though he kept his eyes on the screen. He was trying to remember the face of this apparent new enemy. "You say both groups have gathered in Seattle?" he stated. "That's a big fucking coincidence."

"Exactly," Johnson said. "Their leaders talk about bringing war to each other, at the exact time, in the exact place. What does this suggest to you?"

Alan thought for a couple of seconds. "You don't mean..." he eventually said, "You think that this was all arranged? That's impossible. Trying to get a Humanis and a Son to speak to each other? That's like... well... trying to get two north poles on magnets to stick together."

"Even so," Johnson said, "the timing is just too convenient. My employer wants you and Berokash to work together to find out what's going on. We want you to go to this little skirmish of theirs tomorrow and bring in their leaders, alive. My employer will pull some strings with the police, to buy you some time. Anyone can be bought for the right price."

"Alan," Zapper then chimed in, "I could try and find a log of all of Silas' communications, see who he's been talking to. It'd be a bit more difficult if they spoke over the phone, but do-able. Logs of phone calls are kept all the time; the corporate council's pretty paranoid these days."

Johnson seemed to give a slight smirk at this comment. Alan wasn't sure if he liked the idea of Zapper talking about his plans with Johnson around. Berokash didn't seem overly happy with the idea of having to work with this team, least of all with Zapper, who he kept giving stink-eye to as a retort to that dirty look Zapper had given him earlier.

"I'll leave it up to you to sort out the particulars of how you apprehend the two leaders," Johnson said. "Just get them before the police do. My employer wishes me to remind you that a considerable cash reward hangs in the balance." He looked down at his watch. "I must bid you good-day. Good luck."

With that, Johnson picked himself up, and his bodyguards flanked him as he walked back outside. When he was gone, Sparks' dragon poked its head out from under the table, where he had hidden himself during that meeting.

"Shall we?" Berokash said, indicating the door.

"Alright," Alan said. "I could use a night-cap."

So the trio walked out into the main bar and its usual quiet patrons. They sat down at the bar; Alan made sure to sit between Berokash and Zapper lest they start trying to fight each other. Zapper was an upper-class elf, the sort who considered the likes of orcs below him. This was probably why he was always plugged into the Matrix, to get away from the rest of his team-mates.

"So..." Alan said to Berokash, as they started downing their first pints of the night, "you always been a shadowrunner?"

"Nah," Berokash replied. "I used to be in the Sons too, but being a bigot doesn't pay well. So I defected to Shadowrunners 'R' Us. They just don't know it yet. Kargath doesn't like me anyway; he says I'm not devoted enough. I'd say I'm not stupid enough to be in the Sons these days."

Alan felt uncomfortable working with Berokash, especially now that he'd learned he was a Son. Who knew what the orc would do to them if he shared the rest of the Sons' views? Alan decided he'd have to keep a very close eye on him, in case he tried anything funny.

"So how do you plan to do this, Mr. Leader?" Berokash said, with a touch of sarcasm in his voice. "How do you propose we kidnap the leaders of two mad extremist groups in the middle of a battlefield?"

Alan looked up from his pint, shrugging. "I dunno," he said. "This one's new to me. Guess we'll just have to play it by ear."

Berokash looked at him for a moment, and then simply shrugged. "Works for me," he said, taking another gulp of firewhiskey.


	4. Urban Warfare

**Urban Warfare**

Redmond Barrens... that was the name of the site the Humanis and the Sons had chosen for their battle. It was a destitute area which was only active because of the presence of the large Shiawase power plant and the Hollywood Correctional Facility. The plaza district was the only residential area, a gathering of apartment buildings, the width of the main square being roughly the same width as a medium-sized office block. The fountain and scant amount of grass in the square provided the only real beauty about the site, for this area was in perpetual squalor. Many families occupied the buildings, in spite of the slum-like conditions they lived in. Many people of many races lived here, all of them having lost their SINs in the second Matrix crash and had been unable to secure another one for one reason or another. It was a place that had been abandoned by the megacorporations, full of the bitter, squabbling rabble that fought amongst themselves and tried to make it to the next day.

Today, there was going to be an attempt to rally these down-and-outs behind a single banner. A radical anti-corporate group had picked this time and this place to speak to the people, speaking of their agenda and their belief that the megacorporations were responsible for everything that was wrong with the world today. The peoples of this area hated the corporations as much as they hated each other, so they were quite easy to sway to an anti-corporate point of view. So they were quite shocked when there was a sudden loud bang, and they suddenly saw the lead speaker of this group crumple over dead, an exit wound the size of a golf-ball clearly visible in his right temple, his blood spraying all over the podium and onto his terrified co-activists.

The crowds screamed and panicked, looking all over desperately for the shooter. They feared that the megacorporations had got wind of this gathering and were now trying to silence them once and for all. The crowds charged hither and thither, lost and without a goal, driving headlong and trampling each other underfoot as they headed towards any street that would get them away from this area.

They were in for an even nastier surprise when they found out that every road out of the plaza was blocked off. Everyone tried to get out of the way as two screaming, bloodthirsty armies charged straight into the crowd. Humans and orcs, hundreds of them, rushed into the area, guns firing and a variety of melee weapons swinging above their heads with abandon. Those unfortunate enough to not get out of the way in time found themselves shot, stabbed or otherwise horribly mutilated.

Hidden away from the site of the battle, the van that belonged to Alan's shadowrunning team was parked. They had agreed to a plan as they were driving to the site of the battle. Zapper, of course, was to stay in the van and provide surveillance. There were a couple of security cameras in the area, and he was now patched into those to keep an eye on the ensuing battle. He was also monitoring the police's frequencies, so they could get advance warning of their approach. Sparks and Obatala, meanwhile, would provide support from the roof and take out any snipers.

Alan and Berokash, meanwhile, were to join the fray. Their plan was to split up and go for one leader each. Berokash would pose as one of the Sons and attempt to capture Silas of the Humanis, while Alan would have the somewhat more difficult task of trying to subdue Kargath of the Sons. Through Zapper's hacking, they'd discovered this morning that both Silas and Kargath had been in contact with each other, but had tried to cover their tracks well. Now, things going to plan, they would have some answers by the end of the day.

"What a mess..." Zapper was saying over the intercom. "I'm really not sure trying to do this in the middle of a battlefield is the smartest idea in the world."

"We may not get another chance," Alan said. "One or both of them could be killed in this battle. Don't know what Johnson wants with them, but we're not getting paid to ask about that, are we?"

Alan pulled his Warhawk magnum out of its holster and checked the chamber. He was ready to go, and looked over at Berokash. The orc was wearing a full set of dark combat armour, modified to presumably look more 'orcish', with spikes sticking out of the shoulders and arms and a fierce-looking spiked helmet. He was carrying a large battle axe and had two Predator handguns holstered.

"I never thought," Berokash was saying as he was loading bullets into his gun clips, "that my first mission as a shadowrunner would be something as crazy and suicidal as this."

"Happens to me all the time," Alan said. They were waiting for word that both leaders had decided to enter the battle before they made their move. Crouching behind a burned-out car in one of the alleys leading off from the plaza, they looked through the wire-link fence that separated them from the warzone in front of them. Already a number of civilians, Humanis and Sons were lying dead. It boiled Alan's blood to see that they'd picked the date and location of a peaceful protest to have their little war. All he needed to hear was the word, and they could get this mission over with. At last, Zapper broke the silence.

"Guys," he said, "they're moving in. The police have also been scrambled. They'll get here in about ten minutes, by my reckoning. We've got to make this quick. Say when, boss."

"Right," Alan said. "Sparks, Oba, be ready to back us up. Alright..." he paused for a moment, then gave the command.

"Execute," he said. With that, he and Berokash moved straightaway. Within seconds they were over the wire fence and into the battle. Immediately they split up and headed to their respective targets. They'd finally decided to join the fray themselves. The battle was well underway and most from both sides were occupied with each other. However, some broke off from the fight to try to charge straight at Alan, but they fell easily with one bullet or lash from the whip. Neither human nor orc mattered to Alan; he would not let anyone stand in his way.

Within minutes, he saw the shape of Kargath Bladefist himself, swinging the huge blade-arm around like a creature possessed, flattening several Humanis in one swipe. Alan wondered what name Kargath had actually being christened with, but only for a fleeting moment. He charged straight towards the target, the haft of his whip ready in his hand.

Kargath turned, and saw Alan approaching. He roared, swinging his blade-arm. Alan had to perform a slide tackle to avoid being decapitated, the sharp blade missing him by a whisker. As he slid, he rose as quickly as he could, uppercutting Kargath's ugly face. The orc recovered quickly, however, and swung the blade down, trying to cleave Alan in two. The shadowrunner side-stepped quickly and lashed out with the whip. The nanowire weapon wrapped itself around Kargath's blade. For a moment, the two ended up in a tug-of-war, as Kargath fought desperately to free his appendage from the whip's grasp.

The orc suddenly reached with a free hand for the pistol strapped to his side, but Alan quickly drew his own pistol and fired, aiming at Kargath's ankle. Kargath roared in pain, losing his balance and toppling over like a sack of potatoes. As he fell, he raised his gun and fired. The bullet grazed Alan's right arm and the mutant grimaced in pain as he charged straight at Kargath. He swung out with his foot and landed a kick square in Kargath's face. One of the orc's tusks was broken off and blood gushed out of his now-broken nose. With a moan of pain, the orc's eyes closed as he fell unconscious. It appeared that Alan was right to believe that creeps like him always had a glass jaw.

Now Alan had done what he had to do. He'd managed to subdue Kargath. He'd been successful on his end, but with the chaos and confusion apparent he couldn't tell whether Berokash had had similar luck with Silas.

"Guys!" Zapper half-shouted into the radio, to the point where Alan was almost deafened by the noise on his earpiece. "The cops are almost here! Hurry and get 'em out of there!"

Deciding not to waste time arguing, Alan grabbed Kargath's body by the shoulders and proceeded to drag him to one of the roads out of the plaza. The truck was awaiting him there. However, he heard a loud roar and turned his head to see one of the Sons charging straight at him, axe raised above his head and looking ready to kill. For a fleeting moment, Alan actually panicked. A blade like that could cause a lot of damage even to him, and he'd never be able to get any of his weapons ready in time.

However, the orc's head suddenly seemed to explode as a bullet lodged itself in the skull. The zealous orc keeled over, dead instantly from a shot to the brain. Alan turned, and he could just see Sparks in one of the upstairs apartments, brandishing a large rifle. Such a weapon looked far too big for the dwarf, yet he handled it like a seasoned pro. He fired several shots in the direction of the other side of the plaza, presumably to cover Berokash' escape. At least that was what Alan hoped.

Fortunately getting Kargath back to the truck was less hassle after that. While Alan still sustained a few bruises, Sparks had done a good job of covering his back. Finally, Alan was clear of the warzone. The truck was waiting for him, and he quickly climbed in. Sparks had installed a pair of holding cells in the truck for occasions such as this, and so Alan threw Kargath inside one of them, restraining him with the thick cables inside the cell.

"Good job, boss," Zapper said, climbing into the driver's seat. "Let's get the others and get out of here. We've got less than a minute before the cops get here."

Zapper steered the truck around the apartments to the other end of the plaza, which was the rendezvous point for Berokash and the others. They found them engaged in a gun battle with a number of Humanis who weren't very happy with Berokash snatching their leader. Silas was being carried, fireman-style, by the orc. Zapper swerved the van between the Humanis and his co-runners, and the metal pangs as the bullets hit the outside of the truck resounded inside. Berokash hauled himself in, throwing the unconscious Silas into the second holding cell, and Sparks and Obatala crawled in after him. Sliding the door shut, they drove quickly away as the sounds of sirens filled the area.

"That was close," Zapper said, breathing a sigh of relief. "The police's helijets are flying in now. They'll handle the rest."

Alan looked around at his team. Sparks was lavishing attention on his robotic pet, who looked thrilled to see his master again. Obatala had his eyes closed, deep in meditation. Berokash was looking in Alan's direction with a grin on his face.

"Not bad for a human," he said. "Well, semi-human, anyway. Not many can take on an orc like Kargath and live to tell the tale. You've got some guts, kid."

_Who's he calling 'kid'?_ Alan thought to himself. _I wonder what he'll say if he ever finds out my real age._

There was a groan from the holding cells as Silas was coming to. He was sporting a bloody nose, and looked blearily at the runners. He groaned when he realised what had happened to him. A few seconds later, Kargath awakened, and immediately began struggling against the cables that bound him.

"What's the meaning of this?!" the orc fumed. He looked at Berokash dead in the eye, and he snarled like a wild animal. "You traitorous drek-head! You sold us out!"

"Sorry, old boy," Berokash said, simply, though he sounded more amused than sorry. Kargath looked at each member of the team nastily before rounding on Silas, who was remaining silent and trying to look dignified.

"Silas?!" he roared. "You slime! You said the plan would go off without a hitch! How did you manage to attract the attention of these guys?!"

"Shut up, you brute," Silas said. "You were the one with the traitor in the ranks, not me!"

"Calm down, kiddies," Alan said. "You'll have plenty of time to explain all when we start asking you some questions."

"I will not answer questions from a beast!" Silas fumed.

"You're the one in the cage, mate," Alan said. "I'd suggest you keep your mouth shut, or..."

As Alan was about to finish that sentence, however, Silas suddenly started yelling, as if he was in agonising levels of pain. His whole body was shuddering, and his eyes were rolling into his head. His yells became garbled, as if fluid was now in his throat. He sounded like he was being strangled. Alan's eyes widened as Silas' spasms became more and more violent, until finally, his garbling and shaking ceased. He collapsed in the cell, dead.

None of the team could believe what they had just witnessed. All eyes turned to look at Kargath, who looked as puzzled as the others. Suddenly, without warning, the exact same thing happened to him. One minute he seemed fine, the next he was having the same spasms and was struggling to breath. Finally, his head hung, his body held by the cables. He too was dead.

All of the runners were shocked into silence. Zapper had not seen anything because he was keeping his eyes on the road, and when he tried to ask what was going on he didn't receive an answer. Even Sparks failed to say something. Finally, it was Alan who broke the silence.

"What the hell happened?!" he asked.

"Some kind of poison?" Berokash enquired.

"It is a possibility..." Obatala chimed in, his voice quiet. "We may not be able to tell without an autopsy, however."

"Damn!" Alan muttered, beating his fist against the wall. "Johnson's not going to like this..."

Zapper, who seemed to have figured out what had happened, decided to steer the van in the direction of the city morgue. Alan snarled. This was the first mission they had ever outright failed. What killed them? Why had they started this war in the first place? He was uncomfortably reminded of many other occasions where there had been so many questions and so few answers.


	5. The PostMortem Party

**The Post-mortem Party**

Miki Saegusa had had a very bad day. Rumour had it that her company, Saeder-Krupp, was downsizing its internal security department, meaning several members of that department were at risk of losing their jobs. Given that Miki was a part of that department, she expected to receive the "clear out your desk" order any day now. She often wondered why Saeder-Krupp had even hired psychics like herself to form an internal security department; she would have thought the boss would have the capability of diving into potentially disloyal employees himself, not to mention prevent them from betraying him.

After work, she had not gone back to her company-supplied condo straightaway. Her sister had phoned her wanting to meet her in one of the smallest dives in the sprawl. Miki suspected that she would have to get used to hanging out in such pokey little holes like her sister did, once Saeder-Krupp gave her the chop and kicked her out of her condo. Of course, she wondered if someone like Lofwyr would even let ex-employees live to see the next day, in case they spread any of the company's great new revelations to his competitors.

She tried to push these thoughts out of her head as she walked through the filth-strewn streets to the bar her sister had mentioned. She never felt comfortable walking around these parts; those that looked well-to-do were prime targets for robbery, rape, or worse. It was even worse if people found out you worked for one of the megacorps, particularly one like Saeder-Krupp; most in these parts hated the corps and everything they stood for, and would waste no time in making sure she was never seen or heard from again. She buttoned up her coat as the drizzle gradually became a downpour, and stepped aside to dodge a troll who walked briskly past her.

She finally found the place she was looking for, a place known as the Wild at Heart. It was in a very small corner of town; she was sure she would have missed it completely if she was not looking for it. She thought the neon sign was very quaint, in this day and age of holographic displays and Simsense. She opened the door and walked straight inside to get out of the rain. She became painfully aware that most of the patrons began looking at her with rather nasty gazes. Was it that obvious that she was an employee of a megacorp?

One of the patrons wasn't giving her stink-eye though. A young woman of Japanese origin like Miki herself was sat not looking at anybody in-particular at a table close to the bar. A relieved look on her face, Miki crossed over the floor to the table where her sister, Yami Saegusa, was sat. Yami's hair was short, but also very scruffy, whereas Miki's was long but immaculately cared for. Even their clothes were completely different, with Yami's roughly ripped jeans and shirt being a complete contrast to Miki's smart business suit. You would never think these two were sisters just by looking at them.

Yami looked up, and smiled. "Hi, sis," she said. "Find the place alright?"

"Yeah," Miki said, sitting down at the table. "Don't worry about me being followed. I think Saeder-Krupp know I'd spot someone of theirs following me straight away."

Yami just nodded. "I guess being a psychic does have its perks."

Miki just sighed. "It's more trouble than it's worth sometimes," she replied. "I'm still not completely great at shutting out people's thoughts. You know how I can tell what people are thinking sometimes, even when I don't want to? Well, that guy..." she nudged her thumb behind her at a miserable-looking elf staring wide-eyed at an untouched glass of whiskey, "...his wife found photos of him in bed with several children. He's contemplating killing himself, but doesn't have the guts to do it."

"Miki," Yami said, looking appalled, "I'd rather you didn't tell me what everyone's thinking too! You ever considered seeing a shrink? It's not like you can't afford it."

"I don't need a shrink," Miki said forcibly. "I think I'm getting better. I just need a bit of extra training, that's all, and I can do that by myself."

Yami just sighed. This was typical of her sister; she was always stubborn and insisted on not needing help from anybody. She also missed the jab Yami had made at the fact she was employed by a megacorp, something Yami hated intensely.

"Well, you're not the only one who's had a rough day," Yami said. "It's a good thing you weren't followed, otherwise I probably wouldn't tell you this."

"Yami, I don't want to hear it," Miki said, shaking her head. "You know you can't talk to me about that."

"This is important though," Yami said. "If I don't talk to it about someone, I'm gonna lose it. We held a demonstration over in the Redmond Barrens today. You know what sort of place that is, full of down-and-outs and people who have the same view as us. We wanted to get a few more of them to the cause, but... well... our leader, Vinz, was..."

She paused. She closed her eyes, looking like she was about to cry. Quite inadvertently, Miki received the news of what had happened to the unfortunate Vinz in her mind. He'd been shot in the head by an unknown assassin during his key speech.

"I'm sorry..." Miki said, consolingly. "I know you two were close..."

"You don't know the half of it..." Yami said, sniffling slightly. Miki reached an arm towards her sister's hand. They were on pretty much opposite sides, but they were still sisters in the end. Nothing would ever change that, but doubtless there were times when Yami wished it would.

"No-one knows who did it?" Miki asked innocently, but Yami rounded on her.

"I was hoping you'd know," she said, tears streaming down her face. "You didn't hear anything from Saeder-Krupp? No hints that they were gonna bump off Vinz?!"

"No!" Miki shook her head indignantly. "Frankly I'm rather insulted you think I knew anything! I have to spend every day trying to forget about who you're with, in case they try probing me for information about your lot! I've had a couple of close calls, and frankly if this is how you're gonna repay me I've every mind to turn you in!"

Yami looked shocked at her sister's outrage. She turned her head away, looking towards an orc and what she could only assume was a changeling sitting at the bar with equally sour expressions on their faces.

"I..." she stammered. "I didn't mean to... that is... I..."

Miki sighed. She hated having to cover up for her sister all the time, and it was taking its toll on her. She hated the idea that Yami didn't appreciate the work she had to put in to make sure she was never discovered by the megacorps, but sometimes it felt to her like painfully obvious truth.

The two of them remained silent for a while, listening to the music, which Miki was sure was on the 'illegal' list. After a while, she started getting distracted by other thoughts, powerful, single-minded thoughts by something getting closer to the bar.

***

Sparks trudged back up the bar towards his team-mates. He had just ordered his robotic pet to go and deliver another whiskey to that miserable-looking elf over on one of the tables. Not even Zapper looked that miserable on a bad day. He'd considered going over and finding out what was up, but if there was one thing he'd learned in his time on this messed-up world, it was that you didn't get too involved in other people's lives. It just complicated things.

He sauntered back over to his two team-mates, who were both sat at the bar with equally sour expressions. Both Alan and Berokash were still frustrated at the dismal failure of the mission. Alan had just been glad that it hadn't been Lofwyr that had hired them, but then again Johnson was only a contact and a fixer. Sparks stood on a stool so as to see the two better.

"Proper rays of sunshine, ain't ye?" he said. "Wha's 'appened ter get ye both depressin' me customers?"

"We got a call from Johnson," Berokash snarled, staring into his firewhiskey.

"Oh..." Sparks replied, nodding sympathetically. "So how much is he takin' outta our wages?"

"A lot," Alan said. "He properly chewed us out. Seems he was counting on us to bring them in, but don't ask why. I'm never gonna understand how his mind works."

"Ye 'eard from Zapper and Oba yet?" Sparks asked.

"Nothin'," Berokash grunted. Zapper and Obatala had taken the bodies to the city morgue for examination. "Johnson wants to know what the autopsy reports show."

"Like hell is he going to find out," Alan said abruptly. The others looked at him with mouths agape. "If we find out what killed them, I say we say nothing to Johnson. Nothing at all. If he really wants to know so badly, we may be able to extort some compensation out of him."

Berokash chuckled. "Changeling," he said, "I like the way you think." He flashed a toothy grin in Alan's direction. Sparks, however, looked utterly terrified.

"Ryuu, yer lost the plot?!" Sparks said, alarmed. "We don' kno' wha' Johnson's capable of! We dinnae kno' who he's workin' for! Why yer wantin' tae thro' yer life away, eh?!" Alan shook his head. He got up and walked towards the back room.

"I'm tired..." he muttered, as he walked away from the bar, passing Miki's table.

"Ryuu!" Sparks called, but Alan didn't seem to hear him. He closed the door of the back room behind him as he entered. He was tired of a lot of things. He sighed as he slumped onto one of the chairs. He had been alive for over 100 years, and in that time he'd seen everyone he ever cared about die. A part of him hated himself for staying alive while everyone else lived the normal course of their lives and passed away. He just drifted through the years, waiting for a day that he hoped would never come, a day that he knew he'd have to live to see.

Alan sat lost in thought for a good few minutes, until his commlink suddenly gave a loud beep, which was the signal that someone was trying to contact him. He looked at his commlink, and saw that it was Zapper that was trying to call. He allowed Zapper through and secured the line, in case anyone was trying to listen in. He'd paid good money for high-quality security measures on his commlink and he hoped the money had been worth it.

"Zapper?" he said, as he saw the elf's avatar appear on the screen.

"No, it's the Easter Bunny," the little green lion replied. "Who do you fucking think it is?!"

"Alright, alright," Alan said, sounding tired.

"You sound whacked," Zapper said. "Everything alright there?"

"Hmm?" Alan murmured, before shaking himself. "Everything's fine. Have you got any news?"

"We have indeed," Zapper replied, the lion flashing a toothy grin similar to Berokash's. "The two guys at the morgue weren't very co-operative until Obatala called in some favours with his tree pals. They'll be 'wrapped up' for a while, if you know what I mean." At this point he started to laugh, but Alan cut him off.

"Stop with the bad jokes, Zapper," Alan said, forcibly. "It doesn't suit you. What'd you find?"

"Well," Zapper said, "the autopsy showed no signs of any peptides or dioxides... As a matter of fact there were no poisons at all, so we can rule out suicide. It seems that they both swallowed their tongues during some kind of violent epileptic seizure."

"Epilepsy?" Alan asked, confused. "Neither of them had any records of those things, did they?"

"Not according to their medical records," Zapper replied. "I hacked into their files on the national health network. They were both as healthy as horses."

Alan snarled. "So in other words we haven't a clue what happened to them," Alan stated. "How could they possibly get seizures out-of-the-blue?"

"I'm getting to that, Mr. Leader," Zapper said, impatiently. "We found something lodged in both their heads."

Now Alan sat up, suddenly more attentive. "What do you mean 'lodged in their heads'?" he asked.

"I mean exactly what I say," the lion avatar responded, though he sounded like he could scarcely believe his own words. "Somebody lodged something in their heads. When the doctors cracked their heads open, we found a long, thin crystal embedded right into their brain. More specifically, it runs into the pineal gland. How they were still alive with those things in their heads, we don't know."

"Why that specific part?" Alan asked.

"I haven't a clue," Zapper half-heartedly replied, "and neither do the doctors. We were actually lucky to find the crystals. We spotted the ends of them poking out of their scalps. They look absolutely tiny when you see them poking out, but you won't believe how long it is inside. It's really thin, but it's really tough too. Obatala almost cut his hand when he clenched his fist on it, and you know how heavy-handed Oba is. I'd say they were diamonds or something, but we're checking it out now just to be sure."

Alan sighed. "Impaled into the brain..." he muttered. He subconsciously reached his hand up to his left ear. He knew what it was like to have things skewered into your brain, and he almost expected a tendril of bio-syntech to start poking out of his ear-hole.

"Ryuu?" Zapper asked, forcibly. "Ryuu?! Hey, wakey-wakey!"

"Uhn?" Alan groaned, shaking himself. "Sorry, Zapper, I was miles away. You told Johnson about this?"

"Nuh-uh," Zapper stated. "I was gonna, but I figured-"

"Shh," Alan muttered. He'd heard something just then, like a faint crash coming from outside. It sounded like something had collided with terrific force into another something. As he listened, he suddenly heard another smash, and what sounded like a loud, animalistic shriek. That second crash had definitely sounded closer to the bar. He pulled the haft of his whip out of its holster, and began to rise out of his chair.

"Ryuu, what's going on?" Zapper said, in a loud whisper. "Ryuu?"

"I'll call you back," Alan said, quietly. "Something's going on outside."

"Ryuu?!" Zapper said impatiently, but Alan disconnected the line. He'd have to think about the bizarre circumstances of the deaths of Silas and Kargath later. Right now, it seemed he had more pressing issues.

He walked slowly towards the back door, which lead into the garage where the team housed their truck. As he approached the door, he could now hear something that sounded like heavy breathing coming from the other side, and an odd sniffing sound could also be heard. Whatever was on the other side of the door, it was big.

Alan slowly started to reach out his free hand towards the doorknob, when he suddenly heard something that sounded like very heavy footsteps dashing towards the door. The next second, Alan was lifted off his feet as the door was suddenly smashed off its hinges and thrown towards the opposite wall. A good chunk of the wall was smashed too. Alan landed hard against the floor, cracking his head against a table. He grunted as he staggered to his feet, hardly believing what had happened.

"Goddamnit..." he muttered through gritted teeth, feeling intensely sore all over his body. "Sparks is not gonna be happy..."

As he blinked, trying to refocus his vision and seeing what it was that had responsible for the new renovations, Alan's eyes widened with horror.

***

Miki's eyes widened. She could feel her hands shaking. It was the same unnerving sensation she always felt when thoughts speaking of violent or murderous intent forced their way into her mind. Something was here, something with one single-minded purpose... a dark purpose...

"Miki?" Yami asked, looking worried. She'd seen her sister act like this before, and knew that something bad was going to happen. "What is it?"

"Something..." Miki said faintly, her voice trembling. "I... I can't tell what..."

It was then that a loud crash could be heard from the back room, causing several bar patrons to jump. Sparks jumped up onto the bar and glared at the door to the back room.

"Wha' tha fuck's he doin' in there?!" he snarled.

Berokash just shrugged. "Probably havin' a tantrum over that whole mess of a mission," he said. "I knew he had a screw loose."

Sparks was on the point of running across the floor to the back room, when another smash was heard. "If he's wreckin' me back room," he snarled, "I dinnae care who he is. I'll-"

His last word became a yelp of surprise, as all of a sudden, with a resounding crash, Alan was thrown bodily straight through the wall from the back room. He flew several feet before finally crashing down on Miki's table. The two sisters screamed and sprang to their feet as Alan slid straight off the table and crashed onto the floor, sending their drinks everywhere. Alan was knocked out cold by the fall, and didn't move.

"Ryuu!" Sparks shouted, but no response came. Suddenly, a loud, high-pitched shriek resounded from the back room, loud enough to cause several of the bottles on the bar to rattle. Several patrons turned towards the hole in the wall Alan had just flown through, many of them with nervous expressions on their faces. Yami stood up to get a better view, but Miki still shook badly. She knew that, whatever it was that had these single-minded thoughts, it was in that very room.

Suddenly there was a loud crash as something burst through the wall, enlargening the hole Alan had made. Sparks and Berokash's mouths fell open when they saw the creature responsible for the attack on Alan. It was an enormous, slate-grey creature, over seven feet tall. It was probably taller, but it was extremely hunchbacked, the back continuing to well above the shoulders and with two rows of sharp dorsal spines sticking out of it. Not only was it tall, it was very wide too, wide enough to fill the width of a 20th-century car. The reptilian head stuck straight out of the bulky body on a thick neck, with two small amber eyes and an enormous, lipless mouth, with many teeth sticking out at odd angles. The arms were as long as the body, with a huge three-fingered claw on the end of each one. The legs were as thick as tree stumps, and a stumpy tail could be seen swinging behind it. It released another loud, high-pitched roar, before turning its gaze towards Alan.

Panic gripped the bar as most of the patrons ran for their lives, yelling at the tops of their voices. Yami ran with them, mistakenly believing that Miki was following her. However, the psychic was too badly shaken to move. She turned to look at the hulking monster with wide eyes. She now knew where those powerful, single-minded thoughts were coming from, and of whom it was looking for.

She heard sounds of scrabbling behind her, and turned to see that four of the patrons had stayed and were raising their guns towards the creature. It didn't take a psychic to figure out what would happen next, and so she dived behind the bar as the panic-stricken gunmen opened fire. The monster shrieked as the bullets buried themselves into the thick hide, but even though there were visible wounds the creature seemed completely undeterred. It suddenly charged straight at the attackers, not even flinching at the bullets penetrating the skin. Two of the gunmen dived out of the way, but the other two were not so lucky as the creature collided with one of them with such force it sent him crashing into the opposite wall, knocking him out cold. The other jumped backwards as the monster swung one of the huge claws in his direction. The long tips of the claws caught him, slashing his face and torso open. He screamed in agony as blood ran down his face and his body. The cuts were very deep and the unfortunate victim collapsed to the floor.

The other two attackers opened fire again, yelling in anguish for their fallen comrades. The creature spun around upon feeling the shots impact upon its swollen back. It roared and strode towards them, its attackers backing away frantically, panicked expressions on their faces. In one swift movement the creature had caught up to them, raising its enormous arms to reach out and grab their heads. Its claws were so large that they almost entirely covered the heads of the unfortunate gunmen, who screamed in anguish as it began to squeeze.

"That's it!" Sparks muttered, reaching below the bar and pulling out a Remington pump-action shotgun. At the same time, Berokash pulled out the two Predators from their holsters. Both opened fire on the creature, aiming at the arms. For the first few rounds the creature didn't flinch, but finally the shots seemed to be enough to 'persuade' the creature to drop its victims. They collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath.

"No-one wrecks me bar and scares me customers!" Sparks shouted, as the monster turned its attention to the new attackers. It strode towards them. Berokash's guns, of course, had little effect. The shotgun blasts weren't much better; every resounding blast from the barrel caused the creature to stagger, but it recovered quickly and was soon upon the dwarf and orc. It swept its arms low to the ground, before suddenly raising them, cutting through the front of the bar. Sparks didn't get out of the way in time; he was struck right on the chin, lifting him up and sending him crashing behind the bar. Miki had to roll out of the way to avoid him as he fell. He didn't get up again, knocked out cold from his fall. The monster then smashed its fists downwards, reducing most of the bar to splinters.

This incident bought Berokash the time he needed to holster his empty pistols and grab the large battle axe strapped to his back. With a loud roar he swung the axe straight at the creature's shoulder. The blade found its target, lodging itself deeply into the shoulder, causing the creature to shriek with agony. The orc twisted the blade within the wound, trying to widen it, a wicked grin playing across his face. However, the visceral thrill of combat was to be short-lived, for the monster suddenly swung out its free hand and grabbed his head in the same manner as the other two gunmen. Berokash felt his feet leaving the ground and a horrible tightening sensation around his skull. He couldn't see anything; the palm of that monster's hand was completely covering his vision. Suddenly, he felt himself be thrown violently across the bar, colliding with the other gunmen as they regrouped. All of them were knocked out cold by the impact.

Once its attackers had been dealt with, the creature turned its attention back to Alan's unconscious body. Crouching, terrified, behind the counter, Miki could hear the creature's breath drawing closer. She could sense that this creature wanted the changeling it had thrown through the wall, but why it did, she could not say. She could sense strong hatred, a burning, searing hatred like she had never felt in her life. Her instinct told her that letting the creature take the changeling away would be a very bad idea. She thought she could hear the changeling stirring, but decided she was imagining it. He'd be in no condition to fight now.

Her mind was made up. She sprang from behind the bar and concentrated hard. The creature was still focused on the unconscious changeling, so there was nothing to distract her. She sent a strong clout spell straight at the creature. One minute it was bending over to pick up Alan, the next it shrieked and recoiled, as if it had been punched hard in the face by a giant invisible fist. She fired off another clout spell, knocking it back slightly more.

However, the creature soon came to its senses, and began to march towards Miki, its footsteps thundering like kettle drums as it approached. Within seconds it was upon her. However, she concentrated and threw up a barrier spell around herself. The creature was stopped in its tracks by the barrier, but it began pushing against the iridescent light. The creature's forceful pushing caused more strain on Miki's mind, as she fought desperately to keep the barrier maintained. She cried out in searing, blinding agony as she fought against every urge to drop the shield and let the monster take her.


	6. Strange Bloodline

**Strange Bloodline**

Blackness...

That was all Alan had seen for the past several minutes. He had sustained a number of injuries from the creature which was ransacking the Wild at Heart, and had been unconscious while he recovered. Keeping his eyes closed didn't stop him from hearing, however, and he could hear the gunfire and unearthly screams from the monster close by.

He wondered if he dared open his eyes, in case doing so provoked that monster again. Where had it come from? Why was it attacking the Wild at Heart? In the midst of so many other questions, one dominated his mind above all others.

_Why does it look so familiar?_

As Alan tried to get back onto his feet, he found himself thinking this over and over. He was sure he had seen the creature somewhere before, like a long-forgotten memory trying to resurface. He looked around and blinked a couple of times, trying to clear his vision. As he caught sight of the wrecked bar, with the tables smashed and glasses and bottles strewn everywhere, his eyes fell on the creature that had attacked him, now focused intently on one Japanese woman trying to hold it at bay with a shield spell. The woman looked in pure anguish, and Alan knew it was only a matter of time before her mind became too exhausted to maintain the spell.

Slowly, Alan pulled the handle of his whip out from its holster, and let the line fall free. Grasping the other end of the whip tight in his claw-like hand, he crept up behind the creature, trying his best not to make a noise despite the amount of debris on the floor. Then, in swift movements, he jumped onto a nearly-intact table, and from there launched himself onto the monster's back. As he did so, he trailed the line of the whip and swung it around the creature's head. As soon as he landed on the creature's back he pulled hard, causing the whip to go tight around the neck as if Alan was trying to garrotte it.

The creature roared and shook wildly, trying to throw Alan off. He held on for dear life; he was holding on so hard he could feel the wire whip cut into his hand. He knew it would heal, but his hand still felt in pure agony. As Alan pulled himself further up the back, until he was over the hunch, he felt as if he was on a mad horse. It was impossible to focus on anything except the top of the monster's head; he was being shaken about so violently.

Miki, meanwhile, dropped her shield and scrambled out of the way, now feeling a very severe migraine. She stared aghast as the changeling was thrown about like he was on a bucking bronco. She could not believe any creature would be crazy enough to try such an idea, and how he was finding the strength to hold on was completely beyond her.

She jumped as the front door was suddenly thrown in, and Zapper and Obatala burst into the bar.

"What makes ya think that drunk was..." Zapper was saying, but as his eyes fell on the creature, with Alan still straddling it, his mouth fell open and his eyes widened. Obatala's own face was contorted in a look of utter shock, his mouth open and exposing some of his more prominent canine teeth.

"Fuckin' hell..." Zapper breathed. Visibly shaking, he reached a hand for the Colt America L36 pistol strapped in its holster. As he was about to raise it though, Obatala forced his arm back down. The sheer force of the troll's hit nearly shattered the bones in Zapper's arm.

"Don't shoot!" Obatala shouted, in a loud, booming voice. "You might hit Ryuu!"

"Waddaya suggest we do then?!" Zapper yelled, nursing his arm, watching Alan visibly straining to hold on. "Use harsh language?!"

Obatala responded by muttering a few well-chosen words under his breath. His eyes and hands glowed green, and large vines suddenly burst out of the floor around the creature. These vines proceeded to wrap themselves around the creature's fists, and dragged it to the floor. The monster struggled against them to no avail, and it roared in frustration.

"Sparks is gonna kill ya..." Zapper muttered, his gun still ready. Though the creature's thrashing had been reduced, Alan, still hanging onto the creature's back, knew this creature had to be dealt with somehow. He was about to reach for his gun and shoot every bullet he had into its brain, when he heard something amidst the creature's shrieks.

"_Free..."_

When the creature shrieked a second time, he heard that word again, as clear as day. He was sure he would not have heard it if the creature had not been sounding off. As the creature roared again, repeating the very same word, Alan realised that there was only one possible way he could have understood it... but the realisation brought a horrifying thought to his mind.

"Hey! Mr. Leader!" Zapper shouted, bringing Alan back to his senses. Beneath him, the monster's body quivered, restrained but desperate to escape.

"Waddaya waitin' for?!" the elf continued. "Kill it!"

Though Alan knew this creature was a danger to them all, something in the back of his mind, like a repressed primal instinct, told him over and over that killing it was absolutely out of the question. He also knew that if he killed it, the question plaguing his mind would never be answered. As he looked back at the creature's head, he noticed a small bump, about the size of a pea, sticking out from the top. He would have passed it off as some sort of spot, but then he noticed it was reflecting the light above.

He made his mind up in an instant. He lashed out with his mutated arm, digging the claws into the creature's head. It shrieked in what could only have been blinding agony as the sharp claws tore straight through the flesh. As Alan cut in and more of the flesh was cut away, he saw that the shining lump continued to stretch into the head. He remembered Zapper mentioning crystals that had been found embedded in the heads of the Humanis and Sauron leaders. It looked like whatever had done that to them had got to this creature as well. As he cut away, he saw that he had exposed enough to grip it firmly between two fingers. He gave a few sharp tugs, and though it remained fixed into the head the first few times, a concerted effort finally freed it from the skull.

The shining crystal that emerged looked about eight inches long. The creature shrieked once more, and then made a deep rumbling noise. Finally, with a thunderous crash which shook the very floorboards, it collapsed in a heap on the floor. Alan tumbled off of it, the crystal clutched tightly in his hand. He became uncomfortably aware that it was actually cutting into his hand. Relaxing his grip on it, he walked over to Obatala and thrust it into his large hand.

"Look familiar?" Alan asked, his casual tone causing Obatala to look slightly unnerved, which for a troll was extremely rare. The shaman looked down at the crystal Alan had given him, inhaled a couple of times, and widened his eyes.

"The same crystal..." he breathed. "Just like the ones that came out of Silas and Kargath... This one is larger than the ones we saw, however. What could this mean?"

"I don't know..." Alan muttered. "I have a very bad feeling though..."

"Care to share?" Zapper said, sounding somewhat irritated. "Why you do that to it, eh? We don't even know if it's dead."

"I want to test a theory..." Alan said, turning back towards the bar. Zapper only looked confused, but a curious, understanding look was etched on Obatala's face, and nodded.

At the bar, Sparks had recovered from his crash landing, and was now looking around the bar, wide-eyed and furious.

"Who's gonna be cleanin' all this up, eh?" he snarled.

Berokash, meanwhile, was in the process of retrieving his axe. As the group watched, he grabbed his beloved weapon tightly in both hands, and marched towards the body of the monster, his teeth bared like some kind of wild dog. Realising just what it was the orc was planning to do, Alan lashed out with the whip, snagging the axe and dragging it away from Berokash. It landed noisily on the floor. The orc first looked shocked, then stared straight at Alan with a murderous look.

"What ya doin' that for, changeling?!" he roared. "This thing nearly killed us all, if yer didn't notice!" He indicated the monster, which Alan walked over to and placed his ear next to its chest. The heartbeat was very erratic, but somehow this creature was still alive.

"No' ter mention trashed me bar!" Sparks chimed in.

"No time to explain," Alan said, his voice at its most commanding. "Obatala, help me get this thing locked up secure in the garage. You too," he said, pointing at Miki, who until this point had tried to look as inconspicuous as possible.

"M-me?!" she stammered.

"Yes, you," Alan replied. "You're handy with the old Mana-manipulation. We're gonna need it. Come on."

Obatala nodded, marching over to grab one arm, while Alan grabbed the other.

"Oh no, yer don'!" Sparks yelled. "Yer both 'elpin' me clean up this place! It's partly yers faults anyways!"

"If this thing wakes up and isn't locked up," Alan retorted, frustrated, "there won't be a bar left to clear up. Now pull with me, Obatala."

Grabbing one arm each, Alan and Obatala pulled the enormous bulk into the back room. From there they would pull it into the garage. Miki followed them, looking incredibly weary.

"My day just gets better and better," she sighed.

***

Alan could scarcely believe what he had just done. He had just told off those under his command, had forced them to spare the life of a monster that could have easily killed them all. However, the fact that Alan had understood what the creature had been saying, and some kind of nagging feeling burning in the back of his mind, gave Alan the idea that letting this thing die was a bad idea. Curiosity drove all of his actions. It was exactly the same drive he had when he was on a chase all those years ago, the very reason he became a G-Chaser in the first place.

He knelt next to the creature, which still lay resting on the floor of the concealed garage. Its deep, rumbling breathing could be heard. Alan reached out an arm towards the creature, and gently patted the head. He could not explain it, but something was welling up within him; a feeling of a bond, something he had not felt for a long time. The skin felt rough under his hand, like old leather. On the top of its head, Alan could see the hole where the crystal had been had already healed. Obviously enough of the brain had survived the withdrawal of the crystal.

Nearer the door, Miki was watching Alan intently. She had tried to stay out of the way of the rag-tag owners of the bar, but some of Alan's thoughts had inadvertently crept into her head. For some reason, he'd seemed rather excited by the appearance of the creature, after his initial aggression and the creature had been subdued. He seemed to be thinking about a lot of things, but the images all came at once and were somewhat muddled. The general impression she got of Alan was that of a child who couldn't wait until Christmas to open his presents. He had not spoken to her since he had told her to help him watch over this monster; he'd become somewhat pre-occupied with it.

The door opened, and the massive frame of Obatala was seen entering the garage. He turned to face Miki, his eyes gazing directly into hers. Miki always felt uneasy around non-humans; it was the effect of her own parents that had rubbed off on her, and an attitude that her own sister always reprimanded her for.

"Are you Miki Saegusa, by any chance?" he asked. Miki just nodded, trembling slightly.

"A young woman has just arrived asking around for you," Oba replied, trying to keep his voice gentle to put her at ease. "She answers to the name of Yami, and she sounds rather worried."

"Oh..." Miki muttered. "My sister... I'd better go and... see her..." She kept looking over at Alan, distracted by the changeling and the monster that he seemed to be surveying like an expectant father.

"Do not concern yourself with it," Oba said kindly. "We are more than capable of dealing with it should it awake and decide to attack again."

Miki just nodded dumbly. She was quite surprised she had met such a well-spoken troll. With one last look back at Alan, she headed back out into the bar to meet her rebellious sister. After she left, Obatala shut the door and strode over to Alan.

"The others are somewhat angry at you," he said calmly.

Alan just shrugged. "Do I look like I care?" he replied. "I know what I'm doing."

"I did not say you did not," Oba said simply. He looked at the creature with a great deal of curiosity. "Such a strange being," he continued. "His aura is very strange... It is not too dissimilar to your own, in fact."

Alan looked back at Obatala. The troll was very much in tune with the natural world, and had the uncanny ability to sense the unique "aura" that living creatures emanated. Alan had been counting on Oba to confirm the connection between them, and now he had the confirmation he needed.

"I knew you were no mere changeling from the moment we first met," Oba continued. "I cannot sense exactly what kind of creature you are, however. Now this thing has the same aura... What is the connection between you two?"

Of course, Oba didn't know that Alan was a Godzilla, but doubtless he'd find out someday. Oba was the only one Alan felt he could trust with his secret, but he didn't feel ready to tell him... not yet.

"Oba, I can't say right now," Alan said, trying to sound as apologetic as possible. "If I'm right, however, we shouldn't need to be worried about this guy again." He nudged his thumb towards the unconscious creature.

"What if you are wrong?" Oba replied, his voice low and rumbling.

Alan sighed. "If it comes down to it," he said, "I'll finish it myself. I just need to test a theory."

Oba nodded. He didn't seem particularly annoyed at Alan's dodging of the question, but neither did he seem impressed by Alan's behaviour. Alan hated having to keep secrets.

All at once the creature made a low rumbling noise. Alan turned to see it stirring, and slowly it rose slightly. Alan kept a hand close to his gun, so that he could be ready to attack if need be. Slowly, the creature opened its eyes, and began peering around the room, inhaling deeply. Slowly, it rose to its feet, turning on the spot to look at every corner. Compared to the violent monster that had attacked the bar, Alan now found that it seemed confused, rather like a lost child. As the creature caught sight of Alan, it slowly marched towards him, its feet making loud footfalls. Obatala made a gesture as if to cast a spell, but Alan held up a warning hand telling him to stay calm.

The creature stopped just in front of Alan, continuing to inhale, observing Alan. The shadowrunner stayed still, trying to appear non-threatening. Suddenly the creature issued a low chirruping sound, but Alan understood it to be a word, as if the creature had spoken in plain English:

"_Brother..."_

This was a language Alan understood; it was the bestial tongue that members of the Godzilla family spoke. Over the years with the mutations, Alan had learned how to speak this 'language', but had not reasoned that he would need to speak to any other creature that could speak it. Alan repeated the word, giving a similar chirrup. The noise seemed to rattle around his throat.

"_Brother?"_ he repeated. At this the creature slowly came closer, its arms raised. At first Alan thought it was going to hit him, but it slowly placed its large claws on Alan's shoulders. Alan didn't feel comfortable having such large claws so close to his face, but the creature's grip was as gentle as it could apparently manage. Indeed, at first he thought he was imagining it, but he thought he could catch an expression of joy on its mangled, monstrous face.

"_Brother..."_ it rumbled. "_It is wonderful to see you again. We have been looking for you for a long time."_ The noises the creature was making were definitely Godzilla's language, only with a lower pitch and a rumbling tone, like some kind of regional accent. Alan decided to ask a name that had been longing to leave his tongue since this creature awoke.

"_Tetsuo?"_ he asked. The creature just tilted its head to one side, confused.

"_I do not understand, brother," _it rumbled. "_What is a 'Tetsuo'?"_

"_Then you must be Joel,"_ Alan chirruped hopefully. Again, however, the creature just looked at Alan with a puzzled look.

"_What is a 'Joel'?"_ he asked. "_I do not understand, brother."_

A look of disappointment crossed Alan's face. To his side, he could see Obatala, looking at the pair, utterly entranced.

"_You mean..."_ Alan stammered. "_You mean you can't remember your name? You don't remember what you were?"_

"_You speak strangely, brother,"_ the monster said. "_My earliest memory was waking in a dark place. Our brother was there. He was helping me, saying that we had to run far away. I think I was born then."_

Alan breathed in sharply. He thought back to the Organiser G-1 file, and noticed that the creature's skeletal structure was like a more advanced stage of the images of what happened to his American friend, Joel Sellinger, after the amino acid had been injected into his bloodstream. If this was Joel, then he didn't remember that he was once human, had been a G-Chaser just like Alan. It seemed he was also referring to Tetsuo, Alan's mentor and the third chaser who had Godzilla's DNA implanted into him. The Awakening must have affected them both worse than it affected Alan. Now Joel was scarcely more than an animal. Alan didn't want to think about how Tetsuo might have been affected. To lose one of them was bad enough.

"_You are very quiet, brother,"_ the creature which was formerly Joel said. "_Is something troubling you?"_

Alan shook his head. "_Well,"_ he said, assuming Godzilla's language again, "_what should I call you? What name do I give you?"_

"_Name?"_ the creature asked. "_Our brother always used to call me 'Orga'. Is that a name?"_

Alan nodded slowly. "_Yes,"_ he rumbled. He wondered if his disappointment showed even when he was speaking Godzilla-speak.

"_Then my name is Orga,"_ the mutant rumbled. "_I am relieved to find you, brother. Our brother will be most excited."_

"_You don't have to keep calling me 'brother',"_ Alan said. "_Just call me Alan."_

"_If that is what you wish, brother,"_ Orga replied, nodding.

"_Where is Tets... I mean, our brother?"_ Alan asked, the urge to find out if his mentor was still alive filling his whole body. "_Can you take me to him?"_

"_I will take you to our brother_," Orga replied. "_However, I am weary and need sleep. Let me rest."_

"_Sure,"_ Alan said, indicating the floor. "_You'll be safe here."_ He noticed, however, that Orga was looking at Obatala with a very wary look. He uttered a low rumbling, which Alan recognised as a warning.

"_What about the horned one?"_ Orga asked.

"_Don't worry about him,"_ Alan replied. "_He won't hurt you."_

With a low rumbling, Orga stomped back over to where he had been sleeping, and lay back down. Alan walked over to him, kneeling beside him and placing a hand on his 'brother's' shoulder.

"_I won't let anything hurt you, Orga,"_ Alan said. "_We're brothers, after all."_

"_Thank you, brother..."_ Orga rumbled, before his eyes closed and he drifted into sleep. Alan motioned for Obatala to follow him out of the garage. The two quietly walked back over to the back room, where they found Miki waiting for them.

"How's the monster?" she asked wryly.

"Sleeping like a baby," Alan replied. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't call him a 'monster'."

"Why's that?" Miki asked sardonically. "In case you hadn't noticed, it didn't exactly greet us pleasantly."

"I don't have time to explain..." Alan said, failing to stifle a huge yawn. "I'm knackered. How's the bar?"

"Your friends cleaned it up as best they could," Miki said. She indicated the hole in the wall, which was now covered with several tables.

"Obatala," Alan said, "tell Sparks that his answers will have to wait. I've gotta get some sleep before I keel over."

"Fine," Obatala rumbled, not sounding happy. "He is not the only one who wishes for answers. I want you to explain your behaviour back in that room with the... the... whatever it is." The troll also yawned.

"I'll tell you as best I can soon," Alan replied. "I don't want the others to know about it just yet, though."

Obatala sighed. "Do not expect me to cover up for you again," he said. "How can I help you if you will not tell me anything?"

Alan just sighed. "Just..." he mumbled. "Let's just get some sleep. It's been a rough night. I'll see you in the morning."

Obatala nodded, still frowning, and walked back into the bar.

"Listen," Miki said. She was holding the crystal Alan had pulled out of Orga earlier. "If you don't mind, your dwarf friend said I could take this and have a look at it. Well, what he said was 'I don't care about some stinking crystal,' or words to that effect anyway. I'm a psychic, and I keep sensing something from it..." She paused, holding a hand up to her head. She was looking at the crystal with some level of apprehension.

"Take it," Alan said. He'd suddenly wondered if that crystal could be used to find Tetsuo, as unlikely as it sounded. He had long ago learned to accept any insane possibility that came about, because somehow it was usually the right one.

"Let me know if you find anything," he said. "Only tell me, alright? I'll know if you've blabbed to anyone else."

"Got it," Miki said, not liking the rather fierce tone Alan had used. "I'll just go then. See you around."

With that, she left. She looked relieved to be leaving this place. Alan just sighed, and lay down on the floor of the backroom, trying to make himself comfortable. As he sank into sleep, his thoughts lingered on the image of an operating theatre, with two bizarre humanoid creatures on two of the slabs, an image that had been engraved in his mind for seventy long years.


	7. Dangerous Minds

**Dangerous Minds**

Nothing but blackness once again. That was all Alan saw, wherever he was. Nothing but blackness, even though he could see his own body. It was as if he was standing on night itself.

A sense of deja-vu overcame him, but he could not for the life of him recall why. He was sure he had seen something similar before, but trying to remember where was proving impossible. No light was coming from anywhere, and Alan felt sure that he would not be moving if he couldn't see his own body do so. Everywhere he turned, it was the same.

"Hello?!" he called out to the inky blackness. His voice echoed and distorted strangely, as if a hundred different people had suddenly said the same thing at the same moment. He tried to call again. He did not get a response either time. He shouted again, then ceased, feeling stupid and tired of the echoes.

Things were quiet for several minutes. Alan could not see what he could do except take a look around. So he marched onwards, his footsteps making strange echoing noises. No matter which direction he turned, however, there was nothing but total blackness. Feeling stupid, he stopped walking and stood still, waiting for something - _anything_ - that could give him a clue as to what was going on.

"_Alan..."_

The voice seemed to be coming from all around. It echoed strangely, making strange distorted sounds as it seemed to reverberate through the blackness. Alan spun round, trying to identify the source of the noise, but nothing could be seen. The voice called his name again, the echoes growing louder and distorting strangely. Alan held his hands over his ears, trying to silence the din, but it didn't work. It was as if the voice was coming from inside his own head.

"Who are you?!" Alan shouted. He had not expected results, but he wanted to do anything to get rid of the sound of the echoes. Of course, nobody answered, and all that could be heard were those same echoes, which by now had quietened to a low rapid murmur. Alan stopped covering his ears up, seeing no sense in it, and ran forwards, teeth gritted, determined to see any sign of the person doing this to him.

"_We will meet soon..."_

This time, no echoes accompanied the voice. However, it sounded like it had come from right behind him. The worst of it was, now the voice was starting to sound familiar, though he had not heard it for years.

Quickly, Alan spun round, to get a look at the speaker. All he saw was a dark silhouette of a roughly human-shaped figure right behind. Alan couldn't make out the exact shape, but what he noticed as clear as day were the vivid, blood-red eyes, with slits for pupils. The first connections Alan made to those terrible eyes caused him to freeze, rooted into place by fear. Before he could even begin to act, the eyes advanced upon him, and a ghostly wailing filled his ears.

Moments before the owner of those eyes collided with him, Alan's own eyes snapped open, and he yelled in shock. When he woke, he saw another, monstrous face stood over him, peering down at him. Out of shock, Alan instinctively rolled away, reaching for the whip that had been lying on the floor next to him. Raising himself to a crouching position, he raised his arm, preparing to lash the whip. He stopped himself just in time, seeing that it was Orga that had been peering down at him. The creature continued to gaze at him with those amber eyes, looking at him with an expression of child-like curiosity, almost unaware that he had done anything wrong.

"_Brother?"_ Orga asked, rumbling that same guttural tone. "_Are you alright, brother?"_

Alan clutched his chest, trying to steady his breathing. He tried to relax as he started to pick up his clothes, though that was not easy.

"_Nothing,"_ he mumbled, while trying to pull on his jeans. _ "You just startled me, that's all."_

"_You are very strange, brother..."_ Orga mumbled. "_I can smell your fear. Whenever you look at me, it is a look of fear. Even now, you change your skin just like the soft beings do. Why do you follow the customs of those creatures? You do not act like a part of our family at all."_

"_What are you talking about?"_ Alan asked, out of irritation, more than anything, though he knew exactly what Orga meant. He pulled on his shirt and began to attach his holster. "_I can still get by around them. The world is different now. The 'soft beings', as you call them, have had to cope with things much stranger than us. I can still get by, living alongside them."_

Orga gave a low, almost scornful, growl. It sounded like he was rebuking Alan's words. This was not unknown to Alan; after all, he had once witnessed an argument between his 'father' and 'grandfather' years ago, and both of them got very snarky with each other. It seemed those in the Godzilla bloodline were more similar to humans than most thought.

"_We should not be around them, brother,"_ he snarled, his face grave. "_They will never accept us. None of them will. They have tried to kill our family before. They cannot be trusted. For as long as I can remember, we have been hunted by them, across land and sea. We have never been able to find any peace because of them. Wherever we went, they drove us out, screaming of us being monsters. Is this the treatment that we, the true heirs of this world, deserve?!"_

Alan listened to Orga saying all of this, his face looking more and more incredulous. "_Orga_," he said, "_if you don't mind me asking, who filled your head with all of this?"_

"_I am speaking from the experiences of myself and our brother,"_ Orga replied. "_In your absence, he has been caring for me, keeping us alive, helping us to survive. You must meet him soon. He is anxious to meet you."_

"_I bet he is..."_ Alan muttered. As he pulled on his boots and jacket, the details of the dream gradually came back to him. If only he could remember who the voice belonged to, but thinking back on it now it had sounded strangely familiar. He also had to wonder what had happened to Tetsuo for him to put such sayings in Orga's head. That part about "the true heirs of this world" bothered him especially. What was Tetsuo saying? For some reason, the phrasing set off alarm bells in his mind, for it reminded him of something else entirely.

Pulling on his boots, he strode past Orga and into the garage, trying to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. He could hear Orga's footsteps as he followed him. He strode towards his motorcycle; a very fast and sporty model known as the Suzuki Mirage. It had come in very handy for the odd smuggling run Alan had been hired for in the past, especially with modifications like boosters and hyper-grip tyres. As he walked, he sent a quick text message to Obatala's commlink. There was something he needed the troll to do; doubtless he would be awake by now for his morning meditations.

"_What are you doing, brother?"_ Orga growled.

"_I just need to go out,"_ Alan replied. "_I've got some thinking to do."_

"_Thinking?"_ Orga asked, a note of puzzlement in his voice. "_Why do you think? We, your brothers, have come here to find you, so that we can find our father together. You belong with us, brother. Why do you think, and try to hide this truth?"_

"_It's something you used to do,"_ Alan snarled, his irritation with Orga's attitude getting to him. "_It's something I still do. Now stay here and wait for me to return. We need to talk about our 'brother'."_

Without waiting, he sat on the bike and kicked the engine into life. He could hear Orga's high-pitched roar of protest as he pressed a switch on his commlink. It connected to the opening mechanism for the garage door, and without further ado he rode straight out into the alley. He didn't see Orga try to go after him, nor did he see Obatala arrive in the garage and restrain Orga with vines. He did hear Orga's frustrated roars, and they followed him out of the garage. Alan hated himself for treating Orga this way, but if he was going to find out what was going on he could not take any chances with this 'sibling'.

He rode out of the alley and into the sprawl. It was still quite early, so many people were still sleeping. Only the homeless and the destitute could be seen, some still asleep in various doorways. Glancing down one alley, Alan spotted a body – a dwarf, by the look of it – lying dead against the wall, bleeding profusely from a hole in his head. Alan shook his head, wondering whether or not Orga had a point. Even after everything this world had been through, humans still persisted on killing each other. Sometimes, Alan wondered why he protected them, why any of his 'family' had.

He became so distracted by his own thoughts that, quite without meaning to, he drifted into the opposite lane. He was quickly brought to his senses by the loud sound of a horn, coming from a garbage truck that was driving towards him. He swerved hard to avoid ramming into the truck; in fact, he swerved too hard, and as his bike mounted the mercifully-deserted pavement he fell off. The bike smacked into the nearby wall.

"Watch it, asshole!" the driver shouted as he drove on. Now with a splitting headache, Alan staggered over to his bike and righted it. Fortunately, it didn't seem to be damaged in any way. Vehicles these days were built to last.

Suddenly, Alan heard a scream coming from the nearby alleyway. Carefully reaching for the gun tucked in his jacket, he ran to the alley and looked down it. The alley was empty; looking around, he noticed an open upstairs window, and could vaguely hear panicked voices coming from it.

Carefully stepping into the alley, Alan looked around him, his eyesight serving him well in the darkened alley. He spotted a number of stains on the walls; on closer inspection, he made the disturbing discovery that the stains were, in fact, blood.

Part of Alan's brain screamed to him, telling him to run, but his curiosity outweighed that part of him. He looked deeper into the alley, and eventually, lying on the ground further inside the alley, Alan found the source of the blood.

A body was lying there, a male human build, dressed in raggy clothing. That was all that Alan could tell about the body, for as he looked, he saw that the body had no head. There was only a bloody stump at the top of the neck, and a large puddle of blood. Looking around the walls, Alan noted the position of the blood splatter. Scratching his chin, he thought of what could have done this. What was left of the skin and muscle around the neck was too rough to have been sliced off; everything just looked too 'messy'.

Taking a closer look around the blood splatters on the walls of the alley, Alan spotted other pieces of fleshy debris. Skin, muscle tissue, bone, and something else very fleshy, like a white sponge. The more he looked between the debris and the body, the more one conclusion seemed viable, as much as Alan found it incomprehensible to believe...

The conclusion he reached was that the head had somehow exploded from within.

Alan fought a strong urge to be sick. Now that the possibility of the head exploding had occurred to him, he kept imagining it in his mind. He found it hard to imagine anything more painful, more gruesome than this. Well, there was one thing he could imagine, but with any luck such a thing would never even be heard of again.

In these times, however, anything was possible. Alan was sure that the person who had screamed had witnessed the affair and called the police. He thought it best to get out of the area before they arrived and tried to pin anything on him.

Running out of the alley and jumping back onto his motorbike, he rode away from the area and tried to think. What could possibly do that to someone? Some kind of virus, or magic? Alan reasoned that Miki would probably know something; she seemed quite adept at magic, judging from the lightshow she gave in the bar. He didn't know where she lived, however; he would have to get Zapper onto that.

He was riding past a small store that sold 'traditional remedies', when he heard angered mutterings coming from the alley beside it. Stopping the bike beside the shop, he peered into the alley and saw two figures arguing, only one of whom he recognised.

The figure he recognised was one Rah'zahl San'Jeeno, a troll, and owner of the store Alan had parked close to. For some peculiar reason, some trolls of Caribbean or West African descent had goblinised differently to their counterparts elsewhere. They were tall like their cousins, but had very bad posture, longer limbs and were much thinner. They were generally blue-skinned, with long ears and prominent tusks, like elephants.

The other person was a dark-skinned orc Alan didn't recognise. He looked like a typical street thug, and looked very angry with Rah'zahl. Alan decided to remain out of sight unless things turned nasty.

"You said mah stuff wuz gonna be 'ere today!" the orc snarled, baring his prominent canines. "You's a lyin' drek-head, ya know that?!" Alan thought he was imagining it, but he thought he saw a vein throbbing dangerously in the orc's temple.

"'Ey, jus' be chillin', mon," Rah'zahl replied, in a low, deep-voiced drawl. "Yo' stuff will be 'ere, but it be takin' longer dan I be thinkin'. My suppliers be runnin' slow of late." Alan couldn't help smirking. He had done a few smuggling runs for Rah'zahl in the past; while the troll was a shaman and very deft with herbal medicines, most of his merchandise was downright illegal. It seemed the new runners Rah'zahl had hired were doing nowhere near as good a job.

"Shurrup!" the orc shouted, his eyes popping madly. It was clear he was a druggie, one who couldn't wait for his fix. He suddenly pulled a gun out, pointing it straight between Rah'zahl's eyes.

"I know you got 'em somewhere, man!" he continued. "Give 'em to me!"

"Man, you be needin' 'elp," Rah'zahl drawled, clearly not concerned about his own potential death. Alan knew the troll had been in the drug-dealing trade for several years, and knew how to handle his customers. Indeed, the orc's hand was shaking badly, and his breathing was fast. Alan thought he'd faint before he pulled the trigger.

"Shurrup!" the orc repeated. "I'll do it! I will! Gimme the stuff! I swear I'll do it!"

All of a sudden the orc just froze, and looked further down into the dark alley. Alan followed his gaze, where he could make out a pair of glowing red eyes in the shadows, standing beyond the pair. He could not make out the rest of the body even with his vision, but he recognised the eyes as being just like the ones he saw in the dream. Rah'zahl and his 'client' were now both looking at the stranger.

"Shurrup!" the orc shouted again. "Who asked you?!"

Alan thought the orc seemed to be going mad, for no-one had said anything to him. It occurred to him that the new arrival might be psychic, and was taunting him through that. Now that he thought of it, he was sure he could hear a faint whispering, though he could not clearly make out what it was saying.

"Shut it!" the orc shouted after a few moments, suddenly raising his gun to the stranger. "I 'ate you psychics! You kno' nothin'!"

Again, a few tense, silent moments passed

"Waddaya mean?!" the drug addict yelled.

Almost as soon as he had said that, the orc yelled out and doubled over. He started shaking violently, reaching his trembling hands up to his head. He clasped his head, as if trying to hold it on to his shoulders. All the while he gave ear-splitting yells. Alan looked at him, and noticed the head was now bleeding profusely, and he could hear horrible snapping, crunching noises. Glancing back at the stranger, Alan saw the red eyes glowing more intensely; he was sure they would be shooting sparks if they could.

All of a sudden, there was a loud popping sound, and the yells were silenced. The head exploded, like a grenade had suddenly gone off inside it. Blood, skin and brain matter launched itself onto the walls, while the body dropped like a sack of potatoes. Rah'zahl was knocked against the wall by the impact, and he collapsed to the floor and sat there, wild-eyed and shaking uncontrollably, covered in blood.

Alan could only watch, mesmerised by the appalling sight before him. He had seen it happen, right before his eyes. Now he knew it had to be some kind of magic, but who would do such a thing, for apparently no reason? As he looked at the stranger, he thought he saw the eyes looking in his direction for a brief moment, before the figure turned away and ran into the alley.

Snapping himself back to his senses, he vaulted into the alley and chased after the figure. He had to find out if this figure was who he thought it was, and most importantly find out why he was doing these things. When he reached the other end of the alley, however, the figure was gone. Alan knew he didn't have a big head-start, so it would have been impossible for him to climb the fire escape of the opposite building so quickly, which was the only way of the alley. He could only assume the figure had somehow flown, to move that fast.

He turned and walked back down the alley, his mind buzzing. If the killer was who Alan thought it was, the question that kept coming into his mind was _why_? He tried to avoid looking at the headless body as he walked towards Rah'zahl, who was rocking back and forth, his blue skin very pale, running his three-fingered hands through his flaming red hair. As he did so, he stumbled as he stepped on something loose.

Looking down, he saw what looked like another of those crystals, like the ones pulled out of Silas and Kargath's bodies, only much smaller. It still shined brightly, glowing an odd violet colour. Looking closer, Alan saw that some scraps of scaly skin were still attached; on closer inspection, they were a strange dark-blue colour, but the texture was similar to that of Alan's own scales.

A low voice muttering close to him brought him back to his senses. Rah'zahl, visibly shaking, was muttering an incantation. Alan had heard him saying such things before, and recognised it as a voodoo chant. He strongly doubted that even the greatest bokor or mambo could do anything for the victim, and he kneeled beside the troll, shaking his shoulder.

"Hey," Alan said. "Come on, get to your feet and get indoors. Someone will find that body soon. You wanna get arrested for murder as well as drug-running?"

Still shaking, Rah'zahl eventually stopped his chant, looking up at Alan as if seeing him for the first time. Alan knew the troll didn't spook easily, but something about this attack, and the attacker, had unnerved him considerably. Alan couldn't help but sympathise; seeing someone's head explode from the inside-out was bound to ruin anyone's day.

The troll didn't protest as Alan pulled him to his feet and walked him back into his store. The place had an odd smell, like basil mixed with rotten meat. A variety of herbs hung everywhere, and dozens of bottles lined the shelves. This was all the 'legal' (relatively speaking) merchandise; most of Rah'zahl's stuff was hidden well out of view of the average customer.

Alan helped Rah'zahl into a chair. The troll still shook, but at least was no longer muttering. "Listen to me," Alan said. "Get yourself cleaned up. No doubt the police will be looking all over this area when they come. If you need somewhere to hide your stuff, bring it to the bar. Use the sewer passage."

It was a full half-minute before Rah'zahl gave any indication that he'd heard. He turned to look at Alan, wide-eyed.

"I feel it..." he muttered. "Dere be sum'tin' about dat guy... it no be good in any way... I never be feeling sum'tin' so bad in my time, man..."

Alan nodded. Rah'zahl was like Obatala in terms of abilities, but Obatala was far more reliable. Alan knew what Rah'zahl meant though, because he had felt the same way.

"Well, it's not your problem anymore," he said. "I'm gonna find that thing, whatever it is."

He thought he could hear Rah'zahl about to shout a warning, but he didn't pay attention, for he left the store at that very moment, climbed on his motorbike and headed away from the area. By now the streets were starting to become more crowded, as people of all shapes and sizes went about their daily routines. Pretty soon the decapitations would be hitting the news, and things would not look so tranquil. He brought up his commlink and opened a line to Zapper. In minutes his little green lion avatar came onto the screen, looking much the worse for wear.

"You're calling early, boss," Zapper's voice said, sounding very tired. "What's up?"

"I need you to find someone for me," Alan replied. "Can you get me the address of Miki Saegusa?"

"She's that Japanese chick you met at the bar last night, right?" Zapper said, his avatar giving a toothy grin. "Yeah, she's pretty cute, isn't she?"

"This isn't a social call," Alan replied, rather more forcefully than he intended. "She's got that crystal we took out of the monster, like the ones you found in the skulls of those gang leaders."

"Okay, okay..." Zapper muttered. He was quiet, but Alan was sure he could hear the phrase 'needs to get laid' being muttered as a map appeared on Alan's commlink. A pulsing diamond indicated the house Miki lived, just outside of town and a considerable distance away from the sprawl.

"Parkway Drive..." Alan muttered, knowing that a new problem had surfaced. "That's Saeder-Krupp turf."

"Indeedy," Zapper replied, sounding grim. "They're bound to have a security link to her house. Nothin' I can't handle, but we'll have to move fast before they realise what's happened; no time for chit-chat. If Saeder-Krupp catch us in there, Lofwyr's gonna go crazy."

"More than usual, you mean?" Alan retorted. "Well, let's not let that happen. She'll probably be at whatever work she does for them by now. I'm gonna head there tonight."

"Sure thing, boss," Zapper said, the lion giving a little salute. "Call me if you need to." With that, he signed off.

Alan kicked the bike into gear and set off back to the Wild at Heart. Already it looked to Alan like it was going to be one of _those_ days.


	8. Making the Headlines

**Making the Headlines**

It was several hours later, and Miki was starting to wonder if she was cursed somehow. Although she had not lost her job as she had feared, her workload today had been enormous. She had been called upon to talk to everyone who had been unfortunate enough to lose their jobs, and erase their memory of them ever working for the company. Trucks had been moving up and down the estate all day, packing up the possessions of the layoffs, doubtless to dump them with the unfortunate souls in some bedsit somewhere. One was passing by her house even now as she strode up the garden path and opened the front door.

Still, at least working for one of the Megacorps meant you were able to reside in an area as nice as this. Not many districts nowadays had proper houses with gardens, and the security was always good here. It was rather late, so after idly tossing her coat and suitcase onto the sofa she strode through to the large kitchen. Within a few minutes, she was preparing takuyaki, one of her favourite dishes. As she turned the dough balls occasionally, she thought about how this was another perk of working for Saeder-Krupp; she could afford real food, and not have to live on that soy stuff they had in the sprawl. She wondered how her sister could possibly live the way she did.

It was when her meal was almost cooked that she jumped slightly, turning to look back towards the living room. She thought she had heard something just then, like a muffled tapping sound. She stood silent for several seconds, trying to hear the sound again. Hearing nothing, she turned her attention back to cooking, making sure the dough balls didn't burn.

After she had finished preparing her meal, she turned towards the small table. As she did so, she gasped and very nearly dropped her meal in surprise. For standing in the kitchen doorway was the guy she had seen at that bar when the monster attacked; the changeling with the clawed arm. He stood leaning on the door frame, looking completely at ease in a home that was wired to the roof with security. He was looking at Miki's plate with a trace of revulsion on his face.

"Takuyaki, right?" he asked. "I was never keen on the stuff myself, even when I was living in Japan."

It was obvious that food was the last thing on Miki's mind now. "How the hell did you get in here?!" she stammered.

"Well, your house wasn't protected in any meaningful way," Alan said idly, as if he was talking about the weather, "neither was the estate."

"Couldn't you have just knocked?!" she said, her shock now being replaced with anger.

"Short answer; no," Alan replied. "Lofwyr and I have a history, and I'd rather not give him an excuse to put me on his lunch menu."

As Miki struggled to think what this man might have done to annoy Lofwyr so much, she took a moment to look at his strange appearance again. She looked down at his feet, noticing he wasn't wearing any boots; that made sense, she would have heard him coming otherwise. His right foot seemed normal enough wrapped in a black sock, but the left one was covered in the same grey scales as his left arm. The foot ended in four broad toes, each with a sharp claw on the end. It was a peculiar sight, as if he had tried to shapeshift but had been unable to follow through.

"My face is up here, Ms. Saegusa," Alan said irritably, noticing where Miki's eyes were looking.

"Er, sorry..." Miki stuttered, forcing herself to look into Alan's reptilian eyes, which only served to unnerve her even more. "It's just... well... oh, never mind."

She looked away, frustrated, placing her dinner plate onto the table. She hoped Alan wouldn't stay long; she didn't want her meal to get cold.

"Er, listen," she said, "I've just got in and I'm starving. Mind if I finish this?"

"Nice try," Alan said, "but I'm not staying here long enough to get caught. I want to get this over with quickly. Have you still got that crystal you borrowed?"

"What?" Miki muttered distractedly. "Oh yes!" she exclaimed as she remembered what Alan was talking about. She walked through to the cosy-looking living room, Alan following her to make sure she didn't raise the alarm. She strode to the desk in the corner and picked up the crystal. It seemed like she had been using it as a paperweight.

She turned back to Alan, who had pulled the small crystal he had found earlier out of his own pocket. Miki looked at it curiously, her eyes on the scraps of skin still attached to it.

"Wasn't..." Miki said. "Was that pulled out of something else?"

"No," Alan replied. "It just sort of fell out, like it had been shed or something."

Miki looked puzzled for a moment. "What do you mean?" she asked. "That other creature in the bar had one of those stuck in its brain, didn't it?"

"Yeah," Alan said, "but this wasn't like that. I think whatever shed this is what's been creating them and sticking them in people."

"What makes you so sure?" Miki asked, making no effort to hide her scepticism.

"It's just a hunch I have," Alan replied. "Look, what were you able to find out from that crystal you had?"

"Not much," Miki said, looking down at her own crystal with a furrowed brow. "It's so strange... I can't tell where it's come from, but I can feel the energy within it. I can only guess it's psychic, but I've never known it to be channelled into an object like this. Normally psychics only affect the mind..."

"What do you mean?" Alan asked. "How can you tell it's psychic energy in that thing?"

Miki looked at Alan, and he noticed a trace of fear flash across her face.

"I can tell what it's thinking," Miki replied. "I accidentally picked up some of the thoughts that the energy is channelling into it. I have..." she paused a moment, and her face looked fearful. "I have... never felt so much hatred and rage... I can feel it even when I'm just touching it." She shook her head. "If something with such powerful energy was inserted into the head, I dread to think what would happen. The mind could be irreversibly damaged, or..."

"Brainwashed..." Alan muttered, finishing Miki's theory for her.

"Possibly," Miki said.

It sounded so crazy, and yet Alan could not think of a better reason. The gang war between the Humanis and the Sons had not made any sense, least of all the leaders of the gangs arranging it between them. They'd both had crystals like these embedded in their skulls. Could they really have been controlled by someone? If so, then why? It struck Alan as being too crazy for words.

"Listen," Miki said, snapping Alan out of his musings. "You think that crystal might have come from whatever's been making them?"

"Yeah," Alan said.

"Then let's try bringing these two together," Miki said, holding up her own crystal. "Maybe we'll get a reaction that can shed some light on this."

Alan shrugged. He could not think of anything else to do. He held his crystal between his thumb and forefinger, Miki doing the same with her crystal.

As the two crystals were brought closer to each other, a faint violet light could be seen pulsing within them. As the two crystals were brought closer together, the pulses grew more frequent and the light grew brighter. Alan expected the crystal to start getting warmer, but it remained cold in his hand. He noticed it hadn't gained any heat in all the time he had been holding it. As he looked at Miki, he could see sweat running down her face, her eyes wide open. What was she seeing that Alan could not?

As the crystals drew nearer, the light became almost blinding, and Alan was sure he could hear a low humming sound coming from them. When the tips of the crystals were almost touching, there was a sudden flash of light and a loud noise like the crack of a whip. For a short moment, the two crystals were connected by what looked like a violet bolt of lightning. A second later, Miki suddenly cried out, dropping her crystal and severing the connection. As her crystal fell on the floor, the pulsing lights flickered and died.

Miki continued to cry out in pain, her left hand clutching her forehead. The right hand was smoking slightly. Moving in to take a closer look, Alan noticed that parts of the hand were burned red raw, from where she had been holding the crystal.

"Oh, Jesus..." Alan muttered, pulling Miki into the kitchen. He ran the cold tap and put Miki's burnt hand under it. Miki gritted her teeth as the coldness of the water came as a shock. She was still clutching her forehead and groaning.

After a moment, Alan helped her sit into a chair, while he ran around looking for dressings. Luckily Miki kept her first-aid box well-stocked, so Alan was able to wrap up the burn and apply cooling gel. Still, burns like that would take time to heal properly.

"Thanks," Miki said, after she finally pulled her hand away from her forehead.

"What happened, anyway?" Alan asked. "What caused you to freak out like that?"

Miki turned away for a moment, as if Alan's words had stung her. She sighed, turning back to him.

"I couldn't help it..." she gasped, apologetically. "I accidentally tapped into the energy of the crystal. It was psychic energy... and the thoughts that were coming through it..." She turned away for a moment, looking like she really did not wish to continue. At Alan's encouragement, however, she tried again.

"When the crystals connected just then," she continued, "it was like a conduit to whatever was making the crystals. I can't describe what I saw, but I... I have never felt anything like this. I felt so angry... For a brief moment, I felt I could kill every last person on this planet. I saw horrible things... It was like a slideshow, moving really fast, but not fast enough for me to not see things... Then I heard this voice..."

"Voice?" Alan asked. "What sort of voice? What did it sound like?"

"Terrible..." Miki replied. "It sounded so... hateful... It ordered me to 'get out'. I think the crystals caused me to sneak into his mind, see what was in it... I felt some kind of surge, like an electric shock... The next thing I knew, I was back here."

Alan rubbed his eyes. Alan wondered if he was thinking of the same voice Miki was. Could it have been the same voice he'd heard in his dream? The worst of it was, if it knew about Miki's presence...

"Maybe..." Miki said, trying her best not to sound shaken, "maybe I can use the connection to find them, and get some answers-"

"No," Alan interrupted. "If I'm right, then whatever the voice belongs to is on its way here. It sounds like it knows that you connected with it, and it won't want the risk of anyone snooping in their head. We've got to get you away from here, fast."

"What?" Miki said, confused. "But surely if something's coming, then-"

"The security here won't be able to do shit," Alan replied. "You'd better run. Best that you lay low with me for a while, until we know this thing won't be a threat."

"Hang on," Miki said, now sounding doubtful. "You just said the security here won't matter to this thing. Why should you be any different?"

"Look," Alan snapped, now growing impatient with Miki's constant questions. "If I'm right, you've got a better chance with me than with anything here. Now are you coming or not?!"

"Alright, fine," Miki said, throwing her arms up in surrender.

"Don't bother packing," Alan said. "We haven't got time for that. Be sure you bring the crystals with you, though. Get out of the compound and meet me down the road from it. Don't try to alert anyone; I'll know if you have."

With that, Alan dashed out of the house and through the back window. Fortunately Miki's house was on the edge of the compound, so he was able to cut through the back garden and vault over the perimeter fence. Alan often wondered why Saeder-Krupp even bothered with any form of security; the fear of what Lofwyr would do to intruders was usually enough of a deterrent.

That was another reason he wanted Miki to leave. If he was right and the crystal creature came after her, then there was a risk Saeder-Krupp would be alerted to it and would come after it. Alan hated to think what would happen if a megacorporation caught it; who knew what they would discover, what new weapons they would dream up from it?

A short way down the road, he found his motorcycle, with an unconscious dwarf lying beside it. It seemed the anti-burglar measures Sparks had fitted into the bike worked; the dwarf had been given an electric shock if he tried to touch the bike, powerful enough to knock him out. Alan got onto the saddle and waited for a minute before Miki came into view. He quickly sent a message to Zapper, telling him to pull out of the compound's security systems, as Miki approached, a sceptical expression on her face.

"What, no armoured car?" she asked, wryly.

"That would be my other set of wheels," Alan replied, with just as much sarcasm. When Miki climbed onto the saddle, he revved the bike a few times and set off back for the Wild at Heart. If Miki kept up this sort of attitude, he hoped she wouldn't be staying long. Still, he quite enjoyed the feeling of her arms wrapped around him, even if it was in terror at the possibility of falling off the bike.

***

Back at the Wild at Heart, Sparks had closed the bar while Rah'zahl stored some of his less legal goods in it. Sparks had all kinds of hiding places for putting contraband; the bar was a popular smuggler's hideaway, which went some way to explaining Sparks' contact list and how he was able to get his hands on items that the corporations hadn't approved or had been rationed.

All of Alan's team were busying themselves in various ways. Sparks was preparing the bar and making sure the glasses were clean. Berokash had all of his weapons spread out over one table, and was carefully cleaning each one. Zapper, who had surprisingly decided to show at the bar in person, was over in another corner, peering through an elvish porn website on his commlink.

"Don' ya ever unplug, longshanks?" Sparks asked him, smirking under his bushy beard.

"Oh, shush," Zapper retorted. "You just pissed because dwarf women have beards?"

Sparks snorted. "Ah kno' a few dwarf lasses who'd 'ave summat to say 'bout tha'!" he said. Beside him, his robotic pet was attempting to pick up a pitcher to take over to the sink for washing. The pitcher proved to be too heavy for the small droid, however, slipping from its grasp and smashing onto the floor. Sparks gave a strangled groan and muttered "Dozy droid" as he grabbed a dustpan and brush and swept up the pieces. Over at the table, Berokash gave a low chuckle as he used a small brush to clean the barrel of one of his guns.

"What are you still here for anyway, orc?" Zapper shot at him, still with a look of disgust on his face. "Haven't you got a home to go to, or perhaps a pigsty?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Berokash spat, not taking his eyes off his gun. "So you expect me to be some kind of brute, to just smash the bar and everything else in it?" He paused in his cleaning to glance around the bar for a moment. "Not that it needs wrecking any more anyway."

"Oi, watch yer tongue, Berokash," Sparks snarled. "If it had-nay been fer tha' thing Ryuu's keepin' in the garage, I would-nay have to get the builders aroun'. Why's he lettin' tha' thing stay here anyway? Bloody idiot."

"Your boss seems rash, instinctive, secretive, bullheaded and a brawler rather than a thinker," Berokash said, as he finished cleaning that gun and started on the next one. He gave a toothy grin to Sparks which made his fangs more prominent. "He'd make a good orc."

"Speakin' a' Ryuu," Sparks said to Zapper, "where he be, anyway? He were s'posed ter 'elp me wi' t' cleanin'."

"Oh, he said he had to take care of some business," Zapper said, offhandedly, not taking his eyes off the stripper video he was watching. "He wanted to talk about those crystals with that chick who helped us the other night."

"Ah, righ'," Sparks muttered. "Seriously, I wanna kno' wha's on his mind. He's been pretty freaked since that thing bust the place up. Wha's he..." At this point, he tailed off, gagging and holding a hand up to his mouth.

"Ach!" he exclaimed. "I dinnae mind Raz hidin' his goods here, but wha's 'e hidin'?! Smells like a barghest's backside!"

"It be Nigerian cave moss, mon," Rah'zahl himself said, appearing at the door to the office and stooping to pick up another crate. The crate was slightly open, and dark red moss could be seen inside it. "It smell foul since da Awakenin', but it be makin' a real strong aphrodisiac when it be mixed wi' da right stuff. Yer horned pal could do wi' some."

Sparks looked towards the door to the backroom, knowing Obatala was in the garage, still watching over Orga. He was becoming worried for his friend's safety, but Oba had made it clear that they were on no account to disturb Orga or frighten him.

"I jus' hope Ryuu gets back soon," he muttered. "I don' like havin' tha' thing in there. It gives me the creeps." He jumped as the front door suddenly opened, but no-one came through it. Laughter could be heard from outside; a couple of drunk mages had been showing off and had blasted the door open. Sparks muttered and bolted the door back up.

***

Obatala stood by the doorway to the backroom, his eyes never leaving Orga. The creature, meanwhile, was pacing back and forth, looking very agitated. It had been behaving like this for quite some time. Oba found himself wishing that Alan would hurry up and return; though Orga was not openly hostile to Oba, it only seemed to relax whenever Alan was around. Every so often, Orga would turn to face Oba and begin speaking in that odd chirruping that it used around Alan, but of course the troll could not understand him and could only shrug in reply.

Like the others, Obatala was puzzling over Alan's actions and motivations. He knew about Alan's unique aura, and the fact that Orga had a similar aura might go some way to explaining his actions. What was it about these two creatures that was so strange, however? It was not like any other creature he had encountered. Just what was the changeling he knew as Ryuu No Me, anyway?

After the long hours of uncomfortable silence, the garage door finally opened, and Alan and Miki rode into the garage on the bike. As the garage door shut, the two of them climbed off. Orga immediately strode over to Alan, like a faithful dog moving to welcome its master. The thought made Alan rather uncomfortable as he approached his 'brother'. Miki headed over to the door leading to the main bar, taking care to stay as far away from Orga as possible.

"_Welcome back, brother!"_ Orga chirruped excitedly. _"It is good to see you again."_

Alan shook his head, looking frustrated. _"I haven't been gone long, Orga,"_ he replied. _"You don't need to be so worried about me all the time. I can take care of myself."_

Orga exhaled loudly, as if he was sighing.

"_I do not doubt that,"_ he said. _"But I have never been separate from my brothers for so long. I have always been by our brother's side, yet you insist on keeping us away. I want to be with you. All I wish is that our family be reunited. We will never have to be lonely again."_

"_Look,"_ Alan sighed, _"I appreciate the concern, but this is for your own good. I'm only keeping you here to keep you safe from anyone that might hurt you. This is the safest place for you right now."_

"_What of the ones you call 'friends'?"_ Orga retorted, jerking his head in Obatala's direction. _"The horned one has been acting very tense around me, and giving me suspicious looks. I can tell that he is looking for an excuse to hurt me, as I am sure all of the others you have allied yourself with do."_

"_That's ridiculous,"_ Alan said forcefully. _"Obatala wouldn't hurt a fly, and the others know what I'll do to them if they hurt you. I understand that you're scared, but this is just paranoid."_

Orga snarled. _"It is strange how you constantly protect them,"_ he said, his voice full of scorn, "_after they have continued to hurt our own kind." _He sighed again, turning away from Alan with a look of revulsion on that mangled face. "_They will never stop hunting us. They will not rest until every last one of our bloodline is destroyed."_

Alan shook his head disbelievingly. "_You don't know that for certain,"_ he said. "_Look, I can't imagine what you've been through in all this time, but we can help. 'Grandfather' can-"_

Orga suddenly turned to Alan and snarled intensely. His reaction was rather alarming. Alan didn't like referring to Kiryuu as his 'grandfather' either, but it had seemed like the best way to put a shot of confidence into Orga. He was surprised to see Orga react with such hostility.

"_We are not to speak of him!"_ he said angrily. "_Our brother has forbidden it! He says that our grandfather has brought shame to his bloodline, abandoned us in favour of the humans! It is because of him that our father is imprisoned in the far south, away from us! He could not care less if our family lived or died, as long as he is still around to play with the foolish humans!"_

"_That's not true!"_ Alan replied heatedly, though he was sure that he was only speaking a half-truth. He knew that Kiryuu cared deeply for his son, but he had not spoken to Alan since Godzilla was frozen. Alan had come to expect this, like a silent, mutual agreement that they would not interfere in each other's lives. Still, he could have used his help when he was in Chicago and all of those other times, but he had not even received so much as a call asking if he was okay during all of those hard times. Part of him could not help but wonder if Orga was in some way right.

"_We'll discuss this later,"_ Alan said, his tone making it clear that the argument was over. With that, he marched away from Orga and went over to Obatala, who was waiting by the door to the backroom.

"_Even now you would rather be with the horned one that with your own family..."_ he could hear Orga say, but right now he had no patience with Orga behaving like a particularly awkward adolescent. He turned back to Obatala.

"Ryuu," Obatala said, seriously, "I heard the tone of your 'voices' just then." He nodded his head in Orga's direction. "What's happening? You do know I can't understand a word you two say, correct?"

"I know," Alan said, sighing. "We're just having a few... er... issues right now." He looked back at Orga for a moment. Orga seemed to be deliberately avoiding Alan's eyes. Sighing, Alan turned back to Obatala.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with him," he said. "He's obviously not comfortable here, and I'm afraid of what might happen, especially if he decides to go on a rampage. I know I can trust you, but I can't say the same for any of the others."

Obatala simply nodded. He seemed to have come to the decision that it was best not to pry into Alan's private matters too much. He simply trudged back towards the bar, a concerned look on his face. Alan moved to follow him, but stopped by a small pile in the corner of the backroom and started sifting through it.

On the pile was a box that contained some of Alan's more personal items that he hadn't got round to moving to the new apartment yet. He opened it and began to search through the myriad files, papers and photos in it. His eyes lingered on a file labelled 'Organiser G-1: Beta Experiment' for a moment, and he tossed that file back into the box with a particular forcefulness. It was then that two photographs from the box caught his eye, and he put them both into his pocket. His eyes lingered on the garage door for a moment as he closed the box and put it on the pile again, before he headed to the bar.

Orga, meanwhile, just lay down on the floor of the garage, and sighed a deep, rumbling sigh.

***

The bar was starting to fill with assorted customers. There was a large urban brawl match to be played that night, and Sparks had set up a large trideo display for the match. Sports nights were always big hits at the bar, and Sparks was eager to please the punters. The dwarf headed up the bar to Obatala, a large glass of juice in his hand.

"It's synth, I'm afraid, lad," Sparks said apologetically. "I've no' been able tae get real oranges in fer months now. Me supply lines are gettin' rumbled."

"It does not matter," Oba replied, taking a swig from the drink. "I just need something to drink."

Alan headed over to Miki's table. He noticed that she looked somewhat uncomfortable now that the sprawl denizens were appearing in the bar. Some of them were looking over at her suspiciously. She looked down at her business suit and wished Alan had given her time to change before she left the house.

"Try to look comfortable," Alan said. "You'll only draw their attention otherwise." At this, he sat himself down and put his human arm around Miki's shoulders.

"What are you doing?!" she whispered through gritted teeth, looking shocked and appalled. "What is wrong with you?!"

"Just play along," he muttered. Sure enough, all eyes left their gaze as Miki tried to force herself to relax.

"What was that all about?" Miki asked. "Are you trying to keep the guys away from me, or something?"

"Believe me, love," Alan replied, "you're better off away from most guys here in the sprawl. Besides, they shouldn't think you're a corporate stooge now that they think you're dating me; from my experience, most corporate employees wouldn't be seen dead outside their company towns."

Miki wondered if Alan was just trying to wind her up, but she became distracted by Alan's left, mutated arm. She couldn't help it; she was fascinated by it.

"Does that... well... hurt?" she asked, indicating Alan's arm. Alan turned for a moment to look at his arm, and just shrugged.

"Not anymore," he said. "It's just like wearing a big glove, really."

At this, the trideo system was switched on, just in time for the pre-match analysis. Alan always hated these parts of sports programs; the sports themselves were infinitely more interesting than the talk. Close by, Zapper was keeping to himself, tuned in to the news on his own commlink. Alan knew that the elf hated sports.

"_Well, conditions are perfect for a night of blood-letting here in the sprawl,"_ one of the too-enthusiastic commentators was saying. _"There's a moon out, the generators have been primed; we ain't gonna miss any details tonight. Tonight's match is especially important, as it's the last match of comedy legend Dirk the Daring, as he retires after tonight's match to spend more time with his remaining limbs."_

"Ah, that's a pity," Alan said, as the announcers went on to discuss Dirk's past and brawling career. "I always liked Dirk; he never won a match, but he was a Brit and always gave us a laugh. Plus he's a real sportsman; he never used any augments or bioware or anything like that. Nothing better than skill, that's the way it should be."

"Uh..." Miki murmured. "I wouldn't know. I don't follow the sports. I prefer nature programs."

"Oh, they're always fun," Alan said. "Especially because 'nature' these days can track down and eat the presenters from fifty miles away."

As the match itself started and the noise levels in the bar increased, Zapper suddenly came up to Alan, a worried expression on his face.

"Ryuu," he said in a loud whisper, "you'd better take a look at this!" He showed Alan his commlink, from which a news story was currently being read. Due to the noise in the bar, Alan found it easy to hear the report without being overheard.

"_This bizarre and brutal murder occurred just two hours after three more bodies were located in the docklands,"_ the reporter said, a grim expression on his face. _"Police are currently asking an eyewitness further questions about the incident. So far, this is the only eyewitness to any of these... decapitations, and it will be considered vital testimony in finding this savage killer..."_

The footage cut to a terrified-looking elf male, as he babbled on, hunched over in a fetal position, his face covered in sweat. Of the incoherent babble, Alan was only able to make out a few phrases.

"_It... it were some kinda lizard!"_

"_Those red eyes... those horrible, horrible red eyes..."_

"_It just... just blew 'em up, man!"_

The rest was just incoherent shouting and crying.

"Raz was babbling something about a head 'exploding' earlier," Zapper said, his eyes wide. "Does this have anything to do with it?"

Alan just nodded grimly, looking very worried. A lizard with red eyes, killing people apparently indiscriminately... It couldn't be _him_... could it?

"_With this being the 11__th__ body discovered in less than 24 hours,"_ the reporter summarised, though Alan wasn't really paying attention now,_ "the police are on high alert. None of them, nor any of the denizens here, can say when and where this terrifying killer might strike next. Tim Jackson, CNN, Seattle."_

"_Thanks, Tim,"_ said the anchorman, _"In financial news, negotiations continue between the CEOs of Ares Macrotechnology and the Utah Foundation after disputes over..."_


	9. Brotherly Love

**Brotherly Love**

Alan tried to sit through the rest of the urban brawl match, but he wasn't really paying any attention to it now. The newscast seemed to have driven any other thoughts out of his mind. Though he could hear the cheers and shouts from the bar crowd as the brawl progressed, the sounds barely registered in Alan's brain. Even as the match ended, and the orc known as Gutripper was declared the victor, Alan still did not seem to hear anything as the orcs in the bar exploded into loud cheers, Berokash among them.

Miki had tried to engage Alan in conversation, but after the fifth attempt being greeted with silence, she had given up. She looked around, almost pleadingly, at the celebrating crowd. Sparks was now being kept busy opening a number of bottles of firewhiskey, and drinks even stronger than that which the orcs were going through by the crate-load, while Obatala and Zapper sat in a corner with very disapproving looks on their faces. Most of the other non-orc patrons had left, unable to endure the very wild orcish methods of celebration.

"For Dunkelzahn's sake..." Miki muttered. "I could be back at home away from all this by now..."

Presently, Berokash walked over to their table, holding two glasses of firewhiskey, looking very pleased with himself. He placed one in front of Alan and promptly sat down at the table.

"I made a ton of nuyen on that match!" he said proudly to Alan, though Alan didn't show any sign that he'd heard him. "Just shows that it pays to back the 'home team'. So this is on me, from one non-human to another." He looked over at Miki, who was doing her best to not look uncomfortable. "Feelin' thirsty?" he asked, grinning slightly.

"Not for _that_ stuff," Miki answered. "It nearly blew the roof off my mouth last time I tried it. I expect orcs get a kick out of it, though."

At this, Berokash shrugged, then proceeded to down the entire contents of his glass. He slammed the glass back on the table, shaking himself slightly. Firewhiskey was powerful stuff, but not a problem for orcs. He looked back at Alan, who still hadn't moved. All he did was peer at his glass with a grave face.

"Hey!" the orc said, shaking Alan's shoulder. "Hey, changeling! Wake up!"

"Don't bother," Miki said. "I've been trying all night. He's been like this since the news report we saw a few hours back."

"What news report?" Berokash asked.

"It was about those decapitations that have been happening all day," Miki answered. "It's all they've been talking about all day on the radio. This one had a description of the attacker though, some kind of lizard monster. After that, he just froze up."

Berokash grunted. "Lizard monster?"

Miki just nodded in reply.

"Any idea how it did it?" the orc continued.

"Well, I only have a theory," Miki replied. "A powerful psychic could probably cause someone's head to explode from within, but it'd take a phenomenal amount of psychic energy. The attacker would have to maintain eye contact with the victim, but once he was able to connect with the spell, the victim would be unable to look away anyway... It's such a horrible thing to do to someone, though. I don't know one psychic who even uses it."

"Well, someone or something does," Berokash grunted. "I know what I'm gonna do if I ever see a lizard monster walkin' around though." He indicated slicing off his own head with his finger, before heading back over to the other orcs. They were now starting a drinking game, with a number of especially drunk orcs singing goblin rock numbers with names Alan couldn't hope to pronounce.

"Rowdy bunch, ain't they?" Sparks said. He had come out from behind the bar and had come over to Alan's table. Alan finally seemed to snap out of his apparent daydream and responded with a half-hearted "Hm?"

"Them orcs," Sparks replied, nudging a thumb back at the crowd, as one of the contestants in the game fell off his stool and landed on the floor with a resounding crash. "Bloody rough, but as long as they keep t'money comin' in..."

Alan just shrugged, turning to Miki. "Listen," he said, "it's not safe for you to go back home right now, not until that... whatever-it-is is gone. Do you have anywhere you can stay?"

"What?" Miki replied. She hadn't expected that she wouldn't be able to go back to her house tonight. "Well, no."

"Ah," Alan replied. "Well, you can't go to my place, it has a voice lock."

"Ach," Sparks sighed, shaking his head. "Oba and Raz are sharin' me spare room, so tha's out. I tell yeh wha', lass. Use me own room tonight. I'll sleep in t'office."

"What, really?" Miki asked apprehensively. "Well... thank you."

"Aye, no problem, lass," Sparks said, grinning. "It ain't what yeh'll be used ter, I bet, but at least t'roaches are friendly."

Miki didn't know whether to be pleased or disgusted by Spark's offer. She just nodded, as the dwarf turned back to Alan.

"So wha's up wi' yeh own place?" he asked. "Why yeh no' goin' there then?"

"I'm staying in the back room," Alan replied. "I don't like the idea of leaving Orga by himself, not until I know I can take him somewhere safe, away from all this."

Sparks shrugged. "If I did-nay kno' better," he said, "I'd say tha' thing were yeh brother." Alan almost blurted out that that was exactly what Orga more-or-less was, but held himself in as the dwarf headed back to the bar.

Things remained quiet for some time after that, until the bar reached closing time and the drunken revellers made their way home. Zapper also left to head back to his own apartment. The rest made their various ways to bed, with Sparks bringing down some spare sheets to sleep on the office sofa, while Miki, Obatala and Rah'zahl headed to his apartment.

Alan headed into the back room, and tried to make himself comfortable. In his mind, however, he kept turning over what he had learned in his head. It was impossible that it was who he thought it was, it was far too soon. That just left one possibility...

He lay awake for a while listening to the sounds of shuffling in the apartment above the bar die away, as the occupants fell asleep. It was a while before Alan drifted off himself, his mind full of very confused thoughts.

***

That same dark place again... just like the one he had seen the previous night. Alan was beginning to get sick of the sight of this, as he knew that whatever lay in that darkness, it was never good news.

He started marching again, calling out all around him. Just like the previous night, however, his efforts proved to be worthless. The blackness remained as silent as ever. Alan continued on, looking for something – anything – that could tell him where he was and what he was supposed to do.

As he walked along, he suddenly tripped over something. He stumbled forwards, barely managing to stop himself from falling. He wondered what it was he had tripped over, for there had been absolutely nothing on the "ground" when he had walked along. He turned around and looked behind him. As he looked down at the floor, he saw that he had tripped over something round, like a hairy football.

At once a vile smell filled the area, like rotting meat. The stench was enough to make Alan feel like his nostrils were burning. He now felt that he really didn't want to know what it was he had tripped over, but something kept telling him that he would have to look anyway. He stooped down, one hand held over his mouth, while with his free hand he turned the object over. Although he had guessed what it was he was about to see, the sight of it still made his stomach churn.

It was a human head, messily severed from the rest of the body. What caught Alan out about this sight was the expression on its face, permanently stuck as a mask of pure, agonising pain. He hated to think what had happened to this person as they died. As Alan made to stand up again, trying to divert his eyes away from the grotesque sight, he became aware that the horrific odour was becoming stronger, and as he looked he saw that several poles had appeared all around him, as if from out of nowhere.

As he stood himself back up, and saw what was on the poles, he wished he hadn't looked and he yelled out loud. For on the poles were more heads, belonging to various metahumans, stuck onto the poles like trophies. As Alan spun around, seeing more of these disturbing trophies surrounding him, he could actually hear a cacophony of screams. There had to have been at least a dozen heads around him, and Alan felt like they were all closing in on him. He held his hands up to his ears, trying to block the inhuman wails that seemed to be coming from everywhere.

"_Their blood is on your hands, Alan..."_

It was that same voice again; Alan could not recognise it, but something in his mind told him it was familiar. Even though he had his hands pressed tight against his ears, he could hear the voice loud and clear. The sounds of the wails were dying away slightly, but the voice still resounded in Alan's head, strong and commanding with a frightening viciousness to it.

"_Come to the old Gordon's Hauling warehouse in the docklands before dawn, and bring Orga with you. If either of you are not present by dawn, then the lives of more of the vermin will be forfeit. Perhaps I will eventually kill someone you care about. Come alone, or the blood of more vermin will be on your hands."_

At this, the volume of the wailing started again, so loud that Alan though his brain was going to explode. He doubled over in pain, and as he tried to raise his head, he saw the figure with those blazing red eyes again. All he could see was a large outline, very indistinct. Before he could act, the figure suddenly stretched out a gnarled claw at him...

At this, Alan jerked awake, his face streaked with sweat. As he sat in the darkness of the back room, gasping for breath, the words that the creature had said to him rattled around his brain. So that thing wanted Alan, and had threatened to kill again if he didn't show. It seemed like Alan's suspicions were becoming more and more well-founded, as much as he didn't want to believe it.

He reasoned that what he had seen had not been a dream at all. Alan had half a mind to rouse the others, but this thing seemed too powerful to risk making any stupid moves. He knew he would have to face it alone. So he pulled himself to his feet, dressing and grabbing his gun and whip. Checking the chronometer on his commlink, he noticed that dawn was less than two hours away. The journey from the sprawl to the docklands was a short one, but he knew he would have to go through the sewers if he was to bring Orga with him, and horrible things lurked in the sewers ever since the Awakening...

He knew he would have to chance it; he couldn't take Orga out on the streets, and vehicles were out of the question. Once he was fully prepared, he headed to the backroom, where Orga was fidgeting in his sleep. Apparently, all members of the Godzilla family had bad dreams.

Upstairs, Miki was also dressing. She had inadvertently had the same dream as Alan. Sometimes other people's dreams crept into her head without her intending it. It used to happen all the time with her sister when they were younger, and she always creeped out Yami by being able to recount her dreams in vivid detail.

This time, it was very weird, and more than a bit disturbing. Who was the person called 'Alan' that the dream was referring to? However, the more she thought about it, the more it felt to her like a telepathic communication, and a strong one at that. It had told 'Alan' to go to the dockside warehouse. Whoever Alan was, he had to be close by, or else she would not have picked up the message.

Hearing the sounds of movement downstairs, once she was ready she crept out of Sparks' apartment, and headed down the stairs to the bar.

At this point, Alan was rousing Orga. The creature stirred fitfully, until it finally blinked its eyes open, gazing up at Alan.

"_Brother?"_ he grunted, still half-asleep. "_What is wrong? You look agitated."_

"_We have to leave,"_ Alan said. "_We have to go meet someone. I hate to think what could happen if we don't."_

"_Is it..."_ Orga said, looking more excited. "_Is it our brother?!"_

"_I don't know..."_ Alan said. "_All I know is that we must meet him."_

Orga just looked at Alan expectantly, like a lost child. It seemed he had got the idea that Alan was going to meet Tetsuo, and for now it seemed Alan would have to play along with that idea. He was doubtful that it was true; all signs pointed to the other being, whose name he didn't like to think about.

"_Come on,"_ Alan said, leading Orga to a corner of the garage. "_We cannot risk going along the street. We will have to go underground."_

He reached his arm towards the tool cabinet, and moved his fingers around in the gap between the cabinet and the wall. There was a click as Alan found a switch, and a large hatch in the corner of the garage opened up, large enough for Orga to fit through. Orga watched the hatch open, looking entranced.

"_It's a smuggler's tunnel,"_ Alan explained. "_It will lead to the sewers, which will be our route to the meeting point."_

"_I do not know of these 'smugglers',"_ Orga said, "_but I trust your judgement, brother. Let us go and meet our brother."_

Alan just sighed. He led Orga down a flight of steps to a dimly-lit tunnel. Hiding in the doorway to the garage was Miki, watching the pair with great interest. She had long been curious as to what the connection between these two beings could possibly be, but she was trying to stop herself peeking into other people's minds if she could help it.

With her curiosity piqued, it seemed that she would have to find out what the connection was between these two the old-fashioned way. Besides, she had often been curious as to what it would be like to be a shadowrunner, having heard a lot of stories about their operations for and against corporations such as Saeder-Krupp. Biting her lip, and as quietly as she could, she followed Alan and Orga into the tunnel.

The tunnel stretched on for some distance, before ending at a large iron door. Alan quickly unlocked it and opened it. It took a lot of effort for Orga to squeeze through, but eventually the two managed to get into the sewers. The smell down here was horrendous, and Orga actually gave a low snarl. A wide walkway led down the tunnel, alongside a rapidly-flowing river full of who-knew-what. The walls and ceiling were very damp, and the place was very poorly-lit. This didn't matter to Alan, for his eyes gave him excellent vision in the darkness. He led Orga down the tunnel, gagging on the foul odours.

"_Brother..."_ Orga eventually said, after some forty-five minutes of walking through the tunnels in silence. They had reached an old drainage junction, as myriad pipes filled the area sending their contents into the pool below. Alan motioned for Orga to follow into the next tunnel, and waited for Orga to catch up.

"_Brother..."_ he spoke again, "_I need to speak to you."_

"_Sure, Orga,"_ Alan replied, folding his arms across his chest. "_What is it?"_

Orga shifted slightly, his massive frame almost large enough to fill the tunnel. He looked away for a moment, apparently organising his thoughts, if Alan had to guess.

"_Ever since I found you, brother,"_ he said, "_I have been having... very strange dreams. I dream that... that I am one of the humans, and there are two others with me. We are standing in a strange place, with the great metal pillars. You are one of those people, only you look so different... We sit on strange human contraptions, and they take us deeper into the forests of steel. Then there is a loud noise, and fire... and I feel terrible pain all over my body... I want to wake up, but the fire covers me, and I am not healing... I am dying..."_

As he spoke, Orga held his large claws up to his head, eyes closed tightly. Alan knew that dream all too well; it was one that frequently haunted his nights. Alan knew better than to think it was a dream. He moved over to Orga, placing one hand on his immense shoulder, while with his other hand he pulled out the photos he had pocketed earlier.

"_Orga,"_ he said, "_that was not a dream. It was a memory; it actually happened. You were human once; we all were."_

Orga emitted a low rumbling sound, his mouth agape. Clearly it was a sign of protest, but Alan thrust the photographs towards Orga and pointed at the top one. It showed three people, happy and smiling, sat astride various motorbikes on a Japanese highway, close to Tokyo. One of the figures was Alan, with grey eyes and no sign that he was a mutant anywhere. He was just a regular human in the year 2000, the year the photo was taken, a year that would herald the new millennium, and change the course of many lives.

"_That's me,"_ he said, pointing at himself, "_and that was you" –_ he pointed at a young blond-haired man sat astride a Harley Davidson. "_Your name was Joel Sellinger, and you were an American G-Chaser. Some humans used to follow our father for thrills and research; we were among those humans. What happened to us was terrible... We were caught in an explosion, and horribly injured... Bad humans took us, injecting us with our father's DNA, turning us into what we are now."_

Orga looked aghast. "_I..."_ he rumbled, sounding disbelieving. "_I do not believe it... I do not have any memory of that life. How can I have been human?! I do not remember it! How can the humans hunt us if we were the same as them?!"_ At this, he swung his arms dangerously, a gesture of disbelief that almost knocked Alan flat on his back.

"_I know how hard it is to believe, but it's true,"_ Alan said, trying to stay calm. "_We and our brother here"_ – he pointed at the third figure in the photo, a Japanese man with greying hair – "_were not always like this. What's the point of hating humans if we were-"_

"_You lie!"_ Orga suddenly roared, in that high-pitched shriek of a roar. "_You may look human, brother, but you are not human! None of us are! Why do you persist in denying what we are?! Will you betray us like our grandfather did?!"_

At this, he emitted another loud roar. He swung his large claw, actually striking Alan in the face and sending him sprawling to the floor. Alan could feel blood running down his face from a split lip, though it seemed Orga hadn't really tried with that punch; if he had, Alan was sure that his jaw would have been broken, at the very least. He waited for Orga to strike again, but a second strike didn't come. Orga's eyes were widened, and he was starting to shake. He seemed to have realised that he had gone too far.

"_My brother..."_ he said, crouching into a submissive stance, his hands on his head. "_My brother, I did not mean to... I am sorry... I do not know what had come over me."_

"_I... I understand,"_ Alan replied, picking himself up. He couldn't blame Orga for not believing Alan's side of the story. If he had not lived through it himself he would not have believed it. He was reminded vividly of those years after the experiments where he had amnesia. That had taken a long time to recover from, and he had had to come to terms with the horrible truths he had learned. He thought he completely understood what Orga was going through.

"_If you don't wish to believe that,"_ he said, approaching Orga carefully and pulling out the other photo, "_at least try to understand what I say next. You said that our grandfather betrayed us, made our father a prisoner of the humans. Well, I knew our grandfather. He was scheming, manipulative and had no qualms about using others to achieve his own goals. We have not spoken to each other for a very long time, and in many ways I prefer it to be that way."_

Orga looked up at Alan, obviously puzzled. Alan knew it sounded like he was bad-mouthing Kiryuu – in many ways, he was – but there was one thing he wanted Orga to be clear about.

"_There is another thing I know for sure about our grandfather,"_ he said, before he showed Orga the photo. It showed both the bio-mechanical Kiryuu and Godzilla together. Kiryuu was embracing his son, his snout resting on Godzilla's forehead, the green bio-syntech tentacles that passed as hair blowing in a slight breeze. Alan pointed at Kiryuu's face in-particular, for the photo captured his expression; it was one of loving and tenderness. It was one of the last photos Alan had taken of them both, before Godzilla had vanished from the Earth, perhaps forever. Orga peered at the photo, the light of understanding seeming to dawn in his eyes as he looked at Kiryuu's face.

"_I know that nobody loved our father more than our grandfather did,"_ Alan said. "_He deeply regretted sealing our father away, but it was the only way to keep him safe from the day magic awakened. That day affected every creature on this world, including ourselves, and he wanted to keep his son safe from it. He never stopped thinking about his son."_

As Alan put the photo away, Orga approached him, looking straight into Alan's eyes.

"_What of you, brother?"_ he asked. "_Did you always think about our father? Did you always think about us, your brothers?"_

Alan sighed. Ever since he had found out both Joel and Tetsuo were alive, he had thought about ending their pain, but had never gone through with it to keep himself safe. Now it was far too late, but the memories had never left him.

"_All the time,"_ he said. It was then that he tried to imitate the gesture Kiryuu had done. He placed his hands on Orga's lower jaw, and rested his head on the top of Orga's own. Orga responded by raising his own hands to Alan's shoulders, attempting to embrace him. At first Alan thought Orga was going to crush him, but the touch of those huge claws somehow managed to be gentle. Alan felt somewhat strange for doing this, but somehow he felt like a missing piece of himself had been found again. As he closed his eyes, he could hear Orga rumbling softly, purring like a contented cat.

Hiding in a small alcove, Miki watched the whole scene with wide eyes. The sight was so bizarre to her that she had to stop herself from saying anything. Her mind was filling up with more and more questions; she found herself very tempted to use her abilities to get all the answers out of Alan's head, but she remembered her promise and held herself in. Eventually, Alan and Orga broke apart, and Alan shook himself.

"_Come on,"_ he said. "_We've lost a lot of time, and we still have a fair distance to cover."_

Orga nodded. "_I am with you all of the way, brother."_

With that, the two of them headed down the dank passage. Miki followed at a safe distance; whatever the mystery was surrounding these two, she had the feeling she would find the answers soon enough.


	10. Journey of the Damned

**Journey of the Damned**

The rest of the journey through the sewers passed without incident. Alan had half-expected to be fighting devil rats, ghouls or any other number of creatures down here. In fact, the lack of anything on their route was beginning to bother him; it didn't feel right somehow. On occasion he thought he heard a shuffling noise behind him, but on checking there was nothing to see, so he had continued on.

The shuffling noises were made by Miki, whenever she didn't move as quietly as she could have. She kept herself hidden in the alcoves that ran on either side of the tunnel, and remained a safe distance from Alan and his companion. She found it unusual that they had not met any other monsters too, and couldn't help but wonder if the voice she had heard had anything to do with it.

Eventually, after walking up an incline, Alan and Orga reached a T-junction. In front of them was a large damp wall with three pipes to the right-hand side, all of which had valve handles on them. Orga looked at Alan, confused.

"_What are we doing here?"_ he asked.

"_There is a way through this wall,"_ Alan replied, moving to examine the three pipes. "_I remember seeing this been used once. There's a steam-powered locking system on this wall, and on the other side is the sub-basement of Gordon's Hauling, our destination. Just give me a moment; I'm not sure if I remember the right-"_

Before he could finish, however, Orga let out a loud roar, swinging his fists out and striking the wall. His blow was so powerful that it made a sizeable hole in the wall, sending dust everywhere. As Alan was about to reprimand Orga for his impatience, a vile odour like rotting meat filled his nostrils. For one moment, Alan thought he would be physically sick there and then. So too did Miki, who could smell the stench even from her hiding place. Mingled with the other odours in the sewers, it made for a scent previously unknown to the human senses.

Coughing and spluttering, Alan followed Orga through the wall, and into the vast chamber beyond. It was then that Alan remembered that a smuggling gang used the Gordon's Hauling warehouse as a base of operations; he had done runs for them before, and they had used the tunnel to transport their goods to Sparks' bar. As he stepped into the large elevator that was beyond the wall, he began to wonder why they had not encountered anyone in the gang or set off any alarms.

It turned out that he did not have to wait long for an answer. The elevator chamber beyond was a long, rectangular room, the ceiling of which functioned like a large hatch and was closed. The floor was covered with headless bodies, about ten or fifteen of them, all of them wearing similar biker's clothing. Alan was sure that this was the same gang that used to operate from here, and he had to fight a violent urge to be sick.

Orga rather nonchalantly strode towards the middle of the room, peering around him, apparently not at all curious as to how there were so many bodies here. Alan followed, taking care not to step on any of the cadavers. A horrible nagging doubt filled his mind; this was far too easy.

As he was thinking this, the elevator suddenly began to rise, shaking slightly as it did so, and the ceiling hatch opened up to reveal the warehouse above. There was an odd soft indigo glow coming from the warehouse, and Alan thought he could hear voices coming from the area.

As the elevator reached the ground level, he saw that the cavernous warehouse was covered from floor to ceiling with large, pale violet crystals. They covered almost every surface, some of them moving in snake-like tendrils up the walls, almost as if the crystals were alive. Some of them seemed to have grown out of the floor, forming large formations like giant stalagmites. Several crystal stalactites hung from the ceiling, the largest one looking like a dark shape was inside it, though Alan could not clearly make out what it was. Even as the elevator reached the ground and came to a halt, the crystals grew to cover the floor-space, so that Alan and Orga had to step onto the crystal floor itself. It was a truly bizarre sight, giving Alan the impression that he had stepped onto a strange, alien world.

Back in the basement level, all that Miki could see beyond the hole were the large hydraulics used to move the elevator. There was no apparent way to call the elevator back down, so she decided that the only way to follow would be on the surface. She headed down one of the side-passages. She had no idea where it was she was going, but all she knew was that she would have to find a way out fast. A thought had kept creeping into her mind again; one of anticipation, and a strong violent urge.

Alan stared around him, looking aghast at the crystals. He noticed that they were all the same colour as the other crystals he had seen so far, pulled out of the various victims. After his previous experiences with them, he thought it best not to touch them. Orga, meanwhile, was looking around expectantly.

"_Brother!"_ he called. "_Our brother is here! We are at last reunited!"_

"_What?"_ Alan asked, spinning around to face the excited Orga. "_You mean Tetsuo is..."_

Alan had been about to ask if Tetsuo was here, and if he was the one creating the crystals, but he didn't get to ask. For a sudden loud ringing could be heard in his ears, causing a blinding headache. Alan actually doubled over, holding his hands up to his ear, the pain was so intense. He knelt down on the crystal floor, shaking. Orga moved over to check on him, but stopped just short, as if an invisible wall had suddenly surfaced between them.

All through this, Alan suddenly heard the voice speaking in his mind again, only much louder and more vicious than it had been before:

"_That name no longer has any meaning for me,"_ the voice spoke, deep and filled with malice. "_Allow me to demonstrate why..."_

Alan looked towards Orga, whose face was lined with concern, but then the sight of Orga and the surrounding crystal fortress faded away into blackness. As his vision faded, so did his hearing; soon enough, the world was as silent as it was dark. No matter what he tried, he could not move an inch; it was as if he had suddenly been paralysed.

All of a sudden, the lights suddenly came back on. He was lurching bolt upright, apparently having been laying on his back and waking like one does from a nightmare. Though he was moving, he did not feel like he was moving himself; it was as if his body was on auto-pilot. His vision was very blurred and grainy, as if he was watching an old film reel up-close. As he was forced to look to the left and to the right, he realised where he was with a start.

It was the laboratory he had escaped from in the year 2000. It had been located in the basement level underneath the headquarters of the Crisis Control Intelligence agency, the one that had implanted Godzilla's DNA into him in the first place. The last time he had been there, he had climbed in through an air duct, but this time it looked like he had awakened on the middle table. Alan remembered that Tetsuo had occupied that very same table. The room was exactly as he remembered it, with one operation table on each side of him, each with an ICU, and the shelves lined with all manner of strange instruments and bottles. The table to his right was occupied, and as he looked at his hands he saw that they had changed into gnarled claws covered with dark grey scales.

Alan suddenly realised what had happened; he was viewing Tetsuo's memories, through his very eyes. Viewing another's memories was not a new experience for him, but this was the first time he had seen them from the perspective of the person themselves. He could only watch as Tetsuo moved off of the operating table, moving towards the occupied table. On it was a large reptile-like creature, shaped like an oversized iguana but with prominent dorsal spines and human skin in place of scales. A scaly arm reached out from Alan and pulled the cables connecting the creature to the ICU out of its body, shaking its shoulder to rouse it. The creature looked about drunkenly, the effects of the huge amount of drugs in his system still taking hold.

"_Wake up!"_ Tetsuo was saying in Japanese, another language Alan understood. "_We have to get out of here! Come on, wake up and follow me!"_

As Tetsuo began looking up towards an air vent in the corner of the room, Alan's vision faded. By the time it was restored, he was now standing on a shoreline, on a dark, moonless night. He was looking around anxiously, the other creature stood beside him, making odd chirruping noises. It was as if it was just getting the hang of using its vocal chords. All of a sudden there was a sound like cars screeching to a halt in the distance, and then the sounds of gunfire, the bullets hitting the sand and sending it up in sprays. As he kept looking up and down the deserted shore, Alan suddenly found himself running towards the black water, and diving straight into it.

"_After we escaped the laboratory,"_ the voice spoke as his vision faded into darkness,_ "we found a deserted island in the Pacific Ocean. There we believed we were safe..."_ As Alan listened to the voice, he now recognised it to be Tetsuo's, but changed almost beyond recognition. It was much deeper and fiercer, sounding more filled with animalistic fury than even Orga's voice.

As he watched, his vision cleared, showing a dense jungle, every scrap of land covered in vegetation. A sudden violent storm rocked the island to its core, and both Tetsuo and the other creature, which Alan assumed was Joel, doubling over and shrieking in agony. Alan suddenly remembered that, at the time of the Awakening, there had been outbreaks of what had been called Mana Storms across the world. One of them must have struck the island that Tetsuo and Joel had chosen to hide away from the world.

As Alan watched, Joel suddenly began to change right in front of his eyes. His skin became grey, his teeth were growing in many odd directions and well outside the boundaries of his mouth, and the small claws were becoming much, much larger. He saw Tetsuo look down at his own hands, the already gnarled claws becoming even more animalistic, and the arms becoming wider. He imagined that he could hear their bones snapping and breaking, their bodies changing into ones that better suited the needs of Organiser G-1. He knew that the Awakening had affected him too, but what happened to these two was unimaginable. As the scene began to grow dark, he heard Tetsuo's human yells of pain change into Godzilla's trumpet-like roar.

His vision remained dark for some time after that, as the horrible sight of two of his best friends transforming into monsters seemed to become imprinted on Alan's mind. He could not imagine what it was they had gone through after the Awakening, with no-one to help them cope with their ordeal. If only he had found them. As he became lost in thought, the voice suddenly resounded from the darkness.

"_As you have seen,"_ it said, "_the storm destroyed the island that we called 'home'. It also... changed us. It released the power of what lies within our veins; enough to give us our true shapes, but not enough to complete our ascension. With our home destroyed, we had to leave. We travelled far and wide, across continents and oceans, seeking a place where we could be left in peace..."_

As Alan's vision began to clear, he saw flashes of various locations, from deserts to snowy mountains to cities lying in ruins. In all of them, humans and various other metas were charging towards him, some of them brandishing weapons, their faces contorted with panic and rage.

"_Everywhere we went,"_ it continued, its voice growing more solemn and bitter, "_they hunted us. They drove us away from every place where we could find sanctuary, away from everywhere we could conceivably find a home. A number of times we killed to stay alive. I felt no regret at this. I could feel their hatred, their terror, their rage._

"_Their anger became mine. I was sensitive even before my ascension; I could sense the thoughts of others from a very young age. I saw nothing but disgust and hatred for us in their hearts. I could not bear it any longer. I hated the vermin for what it was they had done to me, what they had done to us. I will never forgive them for their hatred, for taking away everything that was important to me."_

As the hateful faces vanished, Alan wanted to tell Tetsuo that he was wrong, that he should pull himself together and any number of choice phrases, but it was like Tetsuo had sealed his mouth shut. His former friend's thoughts were loud enough to almost drown out his own. When he thought about it, there had been moments all those years ago when it had felt like Tetsuo had read his mind when it came to planning G-Chases and other plans. He never guessed that that was what Tetsuo was actually doing. Now it seemed he was abusing those powers again, further spurred on by the effects of the Awakening...

"_Many, many long years passed,"_ Tetsuo continued. _"We were losing hope of being able to survive on our own, for the vermin seemed ever more numerous. The blood ties between all of our kind remain as strong as they ever were, and we thought we could find our father. We believed he could shelter us, could protect us from the vermin..."_

As Alan's vision began to clear again, he now saw a sight that was very familiar to him, having seen it only a few years ago. He was standing near the ceiling of a dark, gigantic icy cavern, a number of metallic gantries lining the walls. In the middle of the cavern was the enormous form of Godzilla, frozen in ice. He was standing in a defensive stance, as if he had tried to block the Absolute Zero cannon that had frozen him. Alan remembered seeing this for the first time in 60 years, and how the sight had always made him feel uncomfortable, when he thought that Godzilla may never get the chance to walk the earth again.

"_Yes..."_ the voice returned, sounding resentful and bitter. _"Our father was already gone, sealed away from us. He was a prisoner... betrayed by the very creature who was supposed to protect him, to care for him the most."_

Again, Alan could not retort. He was going to say what he had already said to Orga earlier, but it seemed Tetsuo did not wish for Alan to interrupt his little slideshow. Alan could only watch as his vision faded again, only to be replaced a few seconds later with a vision of a dark cave entrance. Alan deduced that they must have been near the coast, for the waves could be heard crashing against a cliff. The cave contained a tunnel that led deep towards the mainland, though Alan could not tell how long it was.

"_Brother..."_ Alan heard Orga saying from behind him. Tetsuo turned around to face Orga, who was stood outside the cave in the sunshine. The waves were crashing fiercely around him, and Alan was afraid he would be swept into the ocean. Strangely, the water didn't reach the cave itself. Orga, meanwhile, was visibly shaking.

"_Brother,"_ he repeated, _"must we go in there? I can sense something in there. Something... unnatural. It is not safe here, brother. We should leave."_

"_Orga,"_ Tetsuo said, in a kindly tone that was a sharp contrast to the vicious tone he was using now, _"this is a safe place. We are not safe anywhere else we go. This island hasn't been touched by human hands; we are safe here. Whatever is in here, it cannot hurt us. If you are truly nervous, then you can stay here and wait for me to call for you."_

Orga nodded uncertainly, and turned to look back at the ocean waves. Tetsuo turned and proceeded down the tunnel, his heavy footfalls giving distorted echoes. After some time, and a number of turns in the passage, there was no sign of light from outside. All of a sudden the floor gave way, and he fell down a long shaft into the darkness. After falling for several seconds, he landed with a resounding crash on the floor of a small cave.

As Tetsuo looked around him, Alan could see that the floor and walls of the cave were covered in the very same crystals that he had seen just now in the warehouse. Their glow was filling the cave with a soft violet light, the only way in being the hole in the ceiling Tetsuo had dropped through.

The cave was also occupied, for suddenly a large spider-like creature, about the size of a dinner plate, jumped out of the shadows and pounced on Tetsuo. He fell to the floor, struggling to stop the large creature from clawing his face off. Alan could see that the spider's body was covered in the crystals. At such a close look, he soon saw that the crystals were actually growing out of the creature itself. He had never seen anything like this anywhere, and he began to wonder where this thing had been hiding all these years.

He watched as Tetsuo clawed at any part of the creature he could. He rolled and tumbled, trying to stop the creature from getting any closer to him. The creature was putting up a good fight, swiping the razor-sharp, crystalline legs at Tetsuo's face. After about a minute of struggling, Tetsuo was able to pin it to the floor, and promptly began to rip it apart with his claws, before suddenly reaching down and clamping his jaws on the creature. As he shook his head wildly, crushing the creature in his jaws, it thrashed for a while, and then finally fell limp as Tetsuo spat it out. Its body hit the wall with such force that the crystals shattered, and it fell to the floor, dead.

Alan didn't even have time to reflect on what had just happened, for all of a sudden Tetsuo doubled over in pain, falling to the floor. As he looked down at his claws, he could now see crystals suddenly piercing through them, ripping their way through the scaled skin. Alan could not even begin to comprehend what was happening, as Tetsuo fell to the floor and his vision became dark once again.

"_On that day,"_ Tetsuo's voice stated, _"Tetsuo Yagame closed his eyes for the final time. Years later, I opened them."_

Alan breathed in sharply. He seemed to have regained control of his motor functions, and so he opened his eyes. He found he was lying on his side, on the crystal-covered floor of the warehouse. As he picked himself up, he saw that Orga had been stood over him. He was making concerned chirruping noises, though Alan wasn't able to listen, for Tetsuo's voice could once again be heard in his ears.

"_The crystals turned out to be a unique parasitic life-form,"_ he said, with a sense of elation, _"capable of consuming other creatures through ingestion or absorption. I would have been consumed just like that spider if my blood had not saved me. Instead, after the years it took for the crystals to properly bond with me, I had been given a new weapon._

"_I became able to control the parasite. Within my own body, I could produce more crystals, and with practice I learned how to channel my latent psychic ability through them and increase my own power. Through this symbiosis, I was reborn. Tetsuo is now dead, and since you refuse to call me 'brother', I will give you a name to remember..."_

All of a sudden, the largest stalactite suddenly seemed to explode with a loud smashing sound, sending shards of crystal flying everywhere. Alan raised his arm to his head to shield himself from the crystalline shrapnel. As the crashing noises died away, Alan looked up, and when he finally saw what had become of Tetsuo, his eyes widened.

For floating several feet above the ground, in the space where the stalactite had been, was a Godzilla-like creature. Though the body shape was similar, it was coloured differently, with strange navy-blue scales and a purple underbelly. The tail was as long as its body, but was slender and more whip-like. Out of its shoulders grew two huge violet crystals, pulsating softly with the familiar violet light. Rows of smaller crystals poked down the length of its back, seemingly replacing the familiar dorsal spines, while a smaller crystal grew out of its forehead, shaped like an ornate crest. It gazed at him with blazing red eyes, its sharp fangs and claws very prominent.

As it floated there, it suddenly roared, releasing a loud, high-pitched, ghostly wail into the chamber. As it roared, Alan could hear Tetsuo's voice say a single word:

_Kaiser._


	11. Family Feud

**Family Feud**

"Dear God..." Alan muttered, aghast, as he saw what his friend had become. He had been changed beyond recognition, both mentally and physically. As the creature that called itself Kaiser floated down from the ceiling, landing just in front of Alan, he got a better look at the wretched, twisted body, ruptured from within by those crystals. Kaiser continued to focus his gaze on him, making him feel like those terrible eyes were burrowing right into his heart.

"_God had nothing to do with this, Alan,"_ Kaiser said, speaking in the Godzilla tongue, in that same vicious tone. _"I suppose you are seeking answers, yes?"_

Indeed, many questions were swarming through Alan's mind. On the top of the list was why he was doing this, why he had done everything that he had done in this city. If what Kaiser said was true about being able to read people's minds, he knew he didn't even have to ask the questions out loud.

"_I already told you that the crystals and the Awakening strengthened my own psychic abilities,"_ Kaiser began to explain. _"One of the first tricks I learned was to control the wills of others using a crystal charged with psychic energy. Orga here,"_ he continued, nudging his reptilian head in Orga's direction, _"was the first such creature I successfully controlled. I regretted doing it, for I wanted my dear brother to share in my glory. He waited for all those long years in that fateful cave, as loyal as I could ever wish a brother to be. It took him a long time to adjust to me in my new body, but I knew he harboured resentment for me. He saw me as foul and unnatural, and I feared that revulsion would drive him to hurt us both, so I had to control him for his own good."_

As Alan looked behind Kaiser and at Orga, he began to see what Kaiser meant. Orga was now looking at Kaiser, clearly scared. Alan could not blame him, and more clearly than ever he saw the deep fractures that Kaiser had created between himself and the rest of his 'family'.

"_At first,"_ he continued, _"I thought I could trick the vermin, control them, and make them destroy each other. The battle between those foolish creatures led by the ones called Silas and Kargath was of my doing, as a microcosmic version of what I had planned for the rest of the vermin. No thanks to you, that was unsuccessful, so I took a more direct approach..."_

"_And you killed all those people..."_ Alan said. _"All because of some kind of insane grudge..."_

"_You should be thanking me on bended knee!"_ Kaiser shrieked._ "The same blood flows through our veins. We are the descendants of the most powerful beings to ever walk on the face of the Earth. This world is ours by right."_ His eyes narrowed cruelly as he spoke. _"Yet you and that treacherous wretch who calls himself our 'grandfather' continue to stand aside and allow the vermin to destroy it. You abandoned us all those years ago, leaving us to suffer at their hands. You even let our father become a prisoner!"_

"_You're wrong!"_ Alan retorted. _"Kiryuu had to seal Godzilla away or else he would have been worse off! I couldn't get you out of the CCI's headquarters or I would have been a prisoner with you!"_

"_Why?"_ Kaiser snorted. _"Are you so afraid of your own blood that you could not even attempt to fight the vermin? You squander your blood and your birthright, too weak to drive off the worthless creatures! And as for our so-called grandfather..."_ At this, he suddenly pointed a clawed finger accusingly at Alan, his eyes glowing as if they were suddenly on fire.

"_Face it, Alan!"_ he roared. _"Kiryuu was the one who doomed not only our father, but this entire world! He could have come up with any solution, but he chose the one that destroyed the world and his own family! And you stood by and allowed him to do so... You are every bit as treacherous as he is, poisoned by the filth of the vermin!"_

Alan remained silent, shaking his head disbelievingly. This thing that had been Tetsuo was truly beyond the pale. Kaiser threw a look at Alan as if he was something nasty he'd stepped in, and turned away, his arms folded. Orga, who had remained silent through all of this, just looked between Alan and Kaiser with a look of concern.

"_I had thought of allowing you to share in our glory,"_ Kaiser said, in a low bitter tone. _"However, your crimes against our family are unforgiveable. You deserve to be sent to oblivion with the rest of the pathetic vermin as they are punished and cleansed."_

"_You're a lunatic..."_ Alan said. _"Tetsuo, this isn't you. I know you too well. There's no way in Hell you'd do something like this!"_

Kaiser sighed, turning to look at Alan again. _"I told you,"_ he said, _"Tetsuo is long dead."_ His mouth slowly twisted into a cruel smirk. _"Clearly you did not know him well enough."_

"_What's that supposed to mean?"_ Alan asked, wide-eyed, but Kaiser gave him a penetrating glance which silenced him.

"_It does not matter,"_ he retorted. _"Nothing about that life matters now. All that matters is that our kind reclaims our birthright. We will take this world back from the vermin that have destroyed it. As for you, betrayer..."_ He paused, and his eyes began to glow fiercely again, the pulsing on the crystals on his shoulders becoming more intense.

"_You get to watch."_

As he said those words, Alan felt a sudden tightening sensation around his ankles. As he looked down, he saw that several crystals had suddenly grown out of the floor and had encased his feet. Even as they did that, they continued to grow, crawling up his legs like some kind of animal. How fast they grew! Before Alan even had time to think, it was up to his waist and still climbing!

"_No! Tetsuo! Stop!"_ Alan cried out, as the crystals continued to climb up his body, freezing him in place. He tried to struggle against the crystals, but to no avail. He gave a despairing look to Orga. It looked like the creature wanted to do something, but was rooted to the spot with fear. Meanwhile, Kaiser continued to observe him, the crystals still pulsing, the eyes still blazing...

As the crystals reached halfway up Alan's chest, there was a loud roar and something knocked Kaiser aside. Kaiser gave a loud shriek as he was sent crashing to the floor. Orga had attacked him from behind, sweeping him aside with his huge claws. For a moment, he stood still, shaking, apparently shocked at what it was he had just done. Alan, meanwhile, noticed that the crystals had stopped growing.

Orga came back to his senses, strode over and began to tear the crystals away from Alan's body. When he was free down to his waist, he grabbed Alan's midsection and pulled straight upwards, pulling Alan's legs free. The crystals shattered into hundreds of pieces on the floor. Orga carefully set Alan down again, concern spread across every line of his face.

"_Are you alright, brother?"_ he asked. Alan nodded in reply, shaken but otherwise unharmed.

"_Please forgive me, brother,"_ Orga said. _"If I had known he would do this... I could not stand by and watch him hurt you like that."_

As he spoke, a low snarling noise could be heard. Turning around, they saw that Kaiser was now back on his feet, looking furious. Orga moved forward to stand between Alan and Kaiser, acting like a living shield.

"_What do you think you are doing, Orga?!"_ Kaiser snarled. _"Do you not want to see our bloodline restored once again? Do you not wish that the vermin were punished for what they did to us?!"_

"_What about our brother?"_ Orga rebuked. _"Does he deserve to be punished as well?!"_

"_He chose to abandon our family for the vermin!"_ Kaiser shouted. _"He can share their fate!"_

For several tense moments, an awkward silence followed. Alan was afraid that Orga would suddenly turn around and tear him in half. He knew how devoted Orga had been to Kaiser, and that he had wanted nothing more than for them to be reunited. In spite of everything that Alan had said, he was afraid it would mean nothing now.

"_No, brother,"_ Orga finally said, breaking the silence. His voice sounded very shaky, as if this was taking every ounce of resolve he had. _"There must be another way. This is not right."_

"_Orga,"_ Kaiser said forcefully, _"we are brothers. We cannot allow anything to-"_

"_It's just... not... right!"_ Orga interrupted, with a tone of finality in his voice. Alan couldn't help but be impressed by Orga, for he was standing up to a creature that before now could have easily killed them just by thinking about it. Kaiser's face, meanwhile, was contorted into a picture of pure rage, all of his fangs bared.

"_Traitor!"_ he roared. The light from his crystals became more intense, and suddenly a number of large stalagmites shot out of the crystal floor, surrounding Orga. He was quickly hidden from view, a prisoner in a crystal cage. As he was focusing on that, Alan unfurled his whip and charged at Kaiser while he was distracted.

He lashed with the whip, catching Kaiser's arm. He cried out in pain as a gaping wound was left in the arm. The wound rapidly began to heal, but Alan kept lashing, while Kaiser threw up his arms to defend himself. On any ordinary being, such an attack would have torn the arms to ribbons, but Kaiser stood his ground, his wounds healing as rapidly as Alan could inflict them. Each wound left a scar that was the same violet colour, leading Alan to assume the crystals were actually covering his wounds.

All of a sudden Kaiser levitated off the ground for a second, and as he did so he spun rapidly. His tail struck Alan in the midsection; caught off-guard, he stumbled onto the floor, winded. He tried to pull himself to his feet, but out of the corner of his eye he saw something extremely sharp coming towards him. He quickly rolled out of the way, as the sharp object smashed into the floor and shattered.

As he pulled himself to his feet, he looked up and saw what looked like a large crystal dagger flying straight towards him, followed by another. He quickly sidestepped to avoid them, and then saw that Kaiser had readied more of them. He seemed to be literally growing them out of his arms and then throwing them at Alan. He was creating them so quickly that the daggers were now coming towards him near-constantly, one after the other. Alan dived for cover behind one of the tall crystal stalagmites, and he ducked there, shivering, as he heard each crystal smash against the column.

After a short while, the crystal bombardment finally ceased. Exhausted, Alan jumped out from behind the column, preparing to strike again, only to find that Kaiser was gone. Then hearing a sudden movement behind him, he spun round to find Kaiser diving straight at him, spinning as he did so like a missile. As he was so tired, Alan didn't get out of the way in time and was bowled over, Kaiser's sharp claws causing deep scratches in his abdomen as he passed. He lay there, exhausted, winded, and covering his wound with a hand to stop the bleeding. He panted and tried to pick himself up as he felt the wound close up. Somewhere nearby, he could hear Orga pounding at the walls of his prison, desperate to escape, but the crystals didn't budge.

As he did so, he was suddenly grabbed from behind and forcibly turned around. He remembered what Miki had said about Kaiser's deadliest spell requiring eye contact, and shut his own eyes tight. He could feel Kaiser's hot breath on him as he was grabbed by the throat by one hand, while another hand wrenched the whip out of his hand. Alan tried to wriggle free from Kaiser's grip, but he felt the grip tighten, and every fibre of his being seemed painful.

"_You miserable parasite,"_ Kaiser said. _"It is you who have poisoned Orga's mind, you who have driven him to betray his own kin. Even now you continue to poison your own bloodline! You and Kiryuu are so alike; you are so ashamed of your birthright that you seek to destroy your own family! Both of you will pay for your treachery with your blood!"_

Alan suddenly felt Kaiser's scaly claw on his face. At first, Alan thought the monster was going to suffocate him, but he felt his own eyelids being pulled downwards. His eyes were forced open, his face held firm, the sharp claws digging into his skin. Shortly, Alan couldn't help but look into Kaiser's red eyes, the terrible face contorted with fury.

"_Look me in the eye when I am speaking to you..."_ Kaiser hissed, as his eyes suddenly glowed red. All at once Alan felt like the inside of his head had been set on fire. Every part of it was burning; he felt like his brain and his eyes were melting, leaking out of his head. His heart was beating so loudly and so quickly he almost could not hear anything else. He tried to yell in pain, but Kaiser's hand was clamped over his mouth. As he thought he heard a horrible snapping sound, he knew it was all over...

***

Frustrated and tired, Miki had finally worked her way out of the sewers. She had negotiated several dark side-tunnels until she climbed up the first ladder she reached. Through some effort, she was able to force the manhole cover open and finally ascend into the loading bay outside the Gordon's Hauling warehouse. She gasped for air as she climbed out of the sewer, thankful to finally be taking in fresh air once again.

As she stood and dusted herself off, she turned to face the warehouse, thankful that her detour hadn't taken her far from where she was supposed to go. She hoped that Alan and Orga hadn't got too big a head-start; she was determined to find out what it was about these two, what sort of creatures they were.

She assumed that Alan and Orga were still in the warehouse, so she strode towards the small side door and tried to open it. Curiously enough, it was unlocked, but there was something on the inside blocking it. In the end, she did manage to open it wide enough to squeeze through the gap and go inside.

Once inside, she saw that what had blocked the door were large violet crystals, glowing with a soft light. She saw that the whole back passage was covered in these crystals from floor to ceiling. She could scarcely believe her eyes as she walked down the corridor, hardly daring to breath. The light grew stronger as she approached the doorway leading into the warehouse itself, and angry snarls and chirrups could be heard from inside the cavernous building.

She peeked around the corner and looked into the main warehouse area. She could not believe what she was seeing. Quite aside from the fact that the crystals covered practically every surface, she saw Alan and Orga, plus a third, horrifying-looking creature. It looked to her like a cross between a giant lizard and the same crystals that filled the building. It gazed with pure malevolence as Orga stood firm between it and Alan. As she watched, the creature gave a horrible roar that sounded like she imagined what a banshee would sound like, and suddenly a number of crystal stalagmites rose out of the ground and imprisoned Orga. She watched as Alan unfurled his whip and began to attack the creature.

At first, Miki could not make sense of what had happened, what the third monster was or why this fight had broken out. As she looked at the crystal monster, trying to decide what exactly it was, she suddenly, quite by accident, picked up a horrible thought from the creature, full of malice:

_That vile pestilence really thinks he can defeat me... First he turns my brother against me, and now this... I will not waste any more time with this filth..._

With a start, she realised where she had heard the voice before. It was the same one that had ordered her to leave when the crystals she had were connected. So this was the creature generating the crystals and such murderous intent... she guessed that this was the same creature that had caused all those decapitations.

As Alan was suddenly bowled over as Kaiser charged straight at him, Miki looked over at Orga's crystal prison. She could hear loud pounding sounds coming from within, as Orga fought desperately to escape. Miki could see that this was a one-sided fight, and sure enough it now looked like Kaiser was going in for the kill. She knew she had to distract Kaiser somehow and even the odds.

Without hesitation, she cast a couple of clout spells, firing them at the crystal prison. Though not strong enough to smash the crystals completely, she did manage to weaken them significantly, as the crystals cracked with a loud snapping sound. Startled by the noise, Kaiser released Alan, where he dropped to the floor, apparently unconscious. Even at this distance Miki could see blood pouring out of his ears and mouth, and feared that she might be too late. Even though Alan's head was intact, his mind could have been damaged beyond repair.

Kaiser spun round, first to the crystal cage, which now had an immense crack in it, and then he turned and saw Miki. He bared all his teeth at her, his eyes narrowed in anger.

"_You..."_ he snarled, recognising her as the creature that had tried to dive into his mind earlier. All at once Miki could feel this creature sending waves of psychic energy at her. She knew he was trying to do to her what he had done to all those poor people. She immediately mounted her psychic defences, praying that they would last out. As the immense energy hit her, she concentrated harder than she ever had in her life to repel the assault. Her head felt like it was going to explode, but she did manage to halt the psychic energy, drawing both into a stalemate. She could see Kaiser's face contorted with concentration, desperately trying to reach her with that terrible connection. She did not see anything else that was happening in the room; all she could see was Kaiser. Everything else looked like a heat haze, warping and distorting, but she paid it no attention. All that mattered to her was that she stay alive, but even a minute into this she could feel her strength leaving her. Kaiser never seemed to tire, and she knew she was only delaying the inevitable.

Suddenly, there was a loud crashing sound, followed by a high-pitched roar. Startled by this, Miki turned to see what it was, and accidentally let her defences down. She was hit by Kaiser's own assault, but strangely it was not as powerful as she had expected. She didn't see the reason why Kaiser had not followed through, for the shock was so strong that she felt like her head had been split open. She cried out in agony from the pain, holding her hands to her forehead and closing her eyes. What was really strange was that she began to see things...

Kaiser too had been startled by the loud crash, and severed his connection, turning to see what had happened. It turned out that Orga had managed to break free from his prison, and was now charging straight at him, preparing to swing his enormous arm at him. He didn't raise his defences in time, and was slashed by Orga's huge claw. A number of deep cuts appeared on his chest and he staggered backwards, shrieking in agony. Orga slashed again and again, seemingly driven into a blind fury.

The visions in Miki's mind cleared up in a matter of seconds, and as she opened her eyes, she saw Orga attacking Kaiser furiously, causing him to back towards the far wall. Looking towards Alan, she noticed that he was picking himself up, shaking his head. Against all the odds, he had survived his ordeal. Not seeing how she could help Orga, and now full of a lot of questions that she wanted answering, she carefully moved over to Alan, and began to help him to his feet.

As she did so, she saw Alan's face, caked with blood from his torture. Miki was sure that if she had only been a second later, Alan would have been dead. As he looked straight at her with those reptilian eyes of his, she quite inadvertently took a psychic look deep into him, into the very depths of his mind. What she saw there was a terrible reptilian face, which roared at her, releasing a loud, trumpet-like call from its throat. She was so shocked at this that she suddenly snapped back into the real world and shouted out loud, stumbling onto the floor.

Alan barely registered that Miki was there. Whatever it was she wanted, he knew it had to wait. He still had a splitting headache from Kaiser's torture session, but he can't have damaged much of the brain or else he wouldn't have been alive now. He turned back towards the struggling brothers, exhausted, his vision blurred.

Kaiser and Orga seemed to have reached a stalemate. Kaiser's chest was drenched with blood, vivid scars visible on his body. Now he had grabbed Orga's arms, while Orga had somehow dug his claws into Kaiser's shoulders. The two of them were locked in a deadly embrace, each trying to throw the other to one side like some bizarre wrestling match. Physically, Orga had the upper hand, but Kaiser had somehow rooted himself to the ground using the crystals, rendering him almost immovable. Both of them were straining to one-up each other, an unstoppable force against an immovable object.

"_I did not want it to come to this, Orga!"_ Kaiser snarled. _"Yet you have let yourself be poisoned by the lies of the vermin!"_

"_All I wanted was to re-unite our family, brother!"_ Orga countered. _"I did not wish for this madness! You have become foul ever since you emerged from that unnatural cave. You have let the crystals, and your hatred, consume you!"_

At this, Kaiser shrieked, withdrawing his arms. He quickly formed two crystalline spikes from his wrists, like glowing daggers, and proceeded to thrust them repeatedly into Orga's midsection. Orga howled in pain as he backed away, clutching at the sizeable holes Kaiser had made, blood pouring out of them. He collapsed on one knee, his breathing becoming ragged, though he continued to look straight at Kaiser with defiance. Kaiser, meanwhile, strode towards his brother, his right arm now becoming covered with jagged crystals. They kept growing outwards, until finally it looked like he had a large glowing sword for an arm. He stood right in front of Orga, breathing hard, his teeth bared.

"_I will not let anything stand in the way of my ascension,"_ he snarled. _"Not even my own brothers. Forgive me, Orga."_

As he spoke, he raised the sword-arm above his head, preparing to cleave Orga in two like a butcher. As he swung down, Orga suddenly reached out with his right arm, aiming his claws right at Kaiser's face. Alan and Miki could only watch, benumbed, as they prepared to strike each other...

The two attacks impacted at the same time. The sword slammed straight into Orga's head, burying itself deep into his skull. It went so far down that his head was almost cleaved completely in two. At the same time, Orga's claw reached Kaiser's face, the long hook-like claws going straight into Kaiser's eyes. Blinded and agonised, Kaiser roared in pain, blood running down his face like tears. He seemed unable to extract himself from Orga, unable to lift his arm away.

Alan's eyes went wide as he saw the grisly spectacle. Both monsters were locked together in their own death throes. He could see Orga twitching slightly, but other than that he knew he was gone. With the brain damaged beyond repair he would be unable to recover from such wounds. Destruction of the brain was the only way to kill a Godzilla. He had been willing to die to keep his family safe from harm. He could see Kaiser still painfully trying to free himself from Orga's clutches, but it seemed like his strength was failing him.

Alan realised that he could not let Orga's sacrifice be in vain. Miki had covered her eyes so as to not witness Kaiser's killing blow, and she now opened them once again to see Alan striding towards the tangled monster, pulling his gun out of its holster, a wild, half-crazed look on his face. She decided that interrupting this moment would be a very bad idea, for he looked positively murderous.

Alan walked until he was stood right next to Kaiser, and pushed the barrel of the gun into the monster's mouth. One shot would destroy the brain, finally killing him. A part of him was screaming to pull the trigger; this creature had brought so many calamities to others, after all. It was foul and unnatural, and obviously too dangerous to be allowed to live...

Yet what if he was wrong? What if the Tetsuo he knew was still inside that creature? Would it be possible, however unlikely, to bring him back? He hesitated, the hand holding his gun beginning to shake. He couldn't believe it had really come to this. He hadn't asked for this.

He heard a horrible sucking sound, and saw that Kaiser was lifting his sword out of Orga's head. His brother's body finally collapsed to the floor, the claws tearing more skin off Kaiser's face as it fell. The monster was raising the arm, preparing to swing it in Alan's direction...

Alan squeezed the trigger. Kaiser's head exploded like a putrid melon, sending blood and pieces of crystal everywhere. Again and again Alan pulled the trigger, unloading all of his bullets into the monster. Finally, all he heard from his gun was a series of dull clicks, and the almost-headless body collapsed to the ground. As Alan watched, the light of the crystals flickered and died. Kaiser had his chance, and he'd blown it.

Miki carefully moved towards Alan, who was now frozen, his whole body shaking. She shook her head, for now she kept seeing another creature standing in Alan's place; a being that she had only seen in pictures and old videos. No matter how much she knew it was impossible to be seeing what she was seeing, her mind would not let her see anything else. She watched as Alan's nerves finally seemed to give up, and he collapsed onto his knees, his head bent low, surveying the bodies of the fallen monsters.

Then Alan suddenly raised his head, his eyes tight closed. He suddenly released a bestial roar from his throat. It was a low, mournful, trumpet-like call; it was Alan's way of expressing the grief he felt, of losing beings that had being not only his family, but his best friends. As he fell silent once more, as Miki knelt beside him, gazing at him with a scared, yet curious expression, he fought hard to fight back the tears that were mingling with the blood on his face.


	12. Favours for Favours

**Favours for Favours**

The next three hours felt like a dream to Miki. After the incident in the warehouse, she and Alan had headed back to the Wild at Heart to fetch the truck and a shovel. They had driven back to the warehouse and removed the bodies of Kaiser and Orga from the building. In the time it had taken them, most of the crystals had shattered, dissolving as they did so. By the time they had removed the bodies, only the floor remained covered in the now-transparent crystals. Pretty soon no evidence would exist of them. It seemed their fate was tied with Kaiser's. One could not live without the other.

When they had removed the bodies, Alan drove until they were a short distance outside the city. There, on a dusty field, in the light of the rising sun, he buried the bodies of his slain friends. Since they were bound by blood, and had suffered the same experiments that he had, Alan felt that the least he could do for them was give them a decent funeral. It was hard, exhausting work, but Alan appreciated it. He preferred to have something to do, to keep his mind off of the terrible events of the previous night.

During his work, he had told everything to Miki. He had told her his real name, his age, and everything he knew that had led him and the other mutants to this point. He told her of the accident in the year 2000, the experiments carried out on them, the years he had spent following Godzilla and Kiryuu, and of all that he had done to stay alive in the years following the Battle of Knoxville.

"This is insane..." Miki muttered, as Alan finished wrapping up the story. It was a lot for Miki to take in and she found it hard to believe, even after everything she had witnessed.

"Believe it or not," Alan said, as he scooped the dirt back onto the bodies in the graves he had dug, "that's what really happened. Put simply, I'm a Godzilla, and so were the two beings we've just buried." He stopped for a moment, leaning on his shovel, looking at Miki with a smirk. "How is it any more unbelievable than having a Godzilla for a President?"

"Hey!" Miki stammered. "I didn't... I just don't... But President Knight wasn't like-"

"A monster?" Alan interrupted. "No, he's just as bad, if not worse. Take my word for it." With that, he resumed his digging, working the shovel more forcefully than before. Miki guessed that the matter of his 'grandfather' was a touchy subject for him, so she decided to drop it. She shook her head again, forcing herself to see Alan there instead of anything else. Alan noticed this and turned to look at her.

"What's gotten into you?" he said. "You've been twitching since the warehouse. What's up?"

"N-nothing," Miki muttered. Alan leaned in closer to her, his eyes never leaving her own. His gaze made Miki feel very uncomfortable.

"You can't keep secrets from me, Ms. Saegusa," he said coldly. "It's part of my job to grill people for information and observe their habits. It'll be a lot less painful for you if you just get it out in the open now."

Miki sighed, and for a moment silence followed. Then, looking rather pained, she decided that there was no sense in keeping secrets. Alan had told her everything; she knew it wouldn't be fair if she didn't do the same. Alan, meanwhile, returned to the burial, but he listened carefully to Miki's every word.

"It's just that..." she said. "Back then, that monster... the one you called Kaiser, I mean... he did something to me. I can't really describe it... I tried to block the spell he wanted to use on me, but when Orga broke out of his cage, I lost my concentration. Kaiser didn't hit me with the full force of the spell, but he still hit me all the same.

"When he did, I saw... things. I saw dinosaurs walking around me, a meteorite, a nuclear explosion... All images I have only ever seen in pictures, but they looked so real. I saw bubbles under the water... It was like a whole stream of pictures, all cobbled together, I almost couldn't tell each one apart. I just can't get them out of my head now; they keep replaying in my mind over and over again...

"And you..." she continued, looking straight at Alan. "When I look at you half the time, I don't even see you standing there... I keep seeing Godzilla instead. I know it sounds weird, but I can't help it." She shook her head, trying to organise her words. "I know he's not there, but all the same..." She looked at Alan again, this time almost pleadingly. "How is that possible? Why am I seeing him instead of you?"

Alan paused, having shovelled the loose earth back into the graves, apparently admiring his handiwork. He had heard all that Miki had said, but what she said had only served to confuse him. He just shook his head in answer.

"I'm honestly not sure..." he muttered. Miki sighed, turning away and walking back to the truck. Alan turned and called after her.

"Miki, wait," he said, running to catch up with her. "What are you going to do next, then? I can't let you go back to Saeder-Krupp now, not knowing what you know."

"What?!" Miki exclaimed, looking like Alan had just slapped her. "I have to go back to work. I'd just made a comfortable living, and you know how hard that is to find in this day and age! I can't just abandon all that now!"

With that, she turned back towards the van, but she froze as she heard a clicking sound coming from behind her. Turning around, an incredulous look on her face, she saw that Alan had raised his gun straight at her head, and pulled back the hammer. His gaze was cold and calculating, making Miki realise he wasn't afraid to kill for this.

"No," he said, bluntly. "I can't let you do that. No-one must know about what I am, or about anything that happened here last night. Saeder-Krupp's run by a dragon, in case you've forgotten, and I know better than most that they can pluck information out of your head so easily, before you've even realised they've done so. All of the megacorporations would love to get a piece of me should they find out about me. Imagine how they'd react learning that there was a real Godzilla that they can experiment on, conveniently bite-sized, a deniable asset that they can hide from the world no matter who tries to learn about it. I think you can see the kind of situation I'm in right now."

"So that's it then?" Miki retorted fiercely. "After I save your life, you're just going to shoot me in case I blab? You owe me!"

"I know," Alan replied, never losing that unnervingly calm demeanour. "That's why I'm offering you a choice. You can either be shot, and I'll at least pick somewhere nice to bury you. Or you can come and work for me. Sparks will give you a steady day job, you'll doubtless be of great help to us on shadowruns, and we'll all look out for you. It's your choice."

For a moment, there was an uncomfortable silence, as Miki weighed her options in her mind. She had no way of purging memories from her own mind, and indeed she hated to think what might happen if the megacorporations found out that there was a way they could obtain Godzilla cells without anyone realising. Last night she had seen living proof of why such experiments were so dangerous.

"All right," she finally said, caving in. "I'll go with you. Just how am I supposed to disappear though, after all I've done for the company?"

"Don't worry," Alan said, holstering his gun and walking back to the truck with Miki. "Between all of us, we can arrange that. You'll disappear, and we'll watch your back if you watch ours. That's the way it works among my team; we all look after each other."

Miki nodded, climbing into the truck. She wondered what it was she was getting into, and couldn't help thinking of the comfortable life she was leaving behind. Doubtless if Yami saw her again, she would waste no time in rubbing this fall from grace in Miki's face.

As Alan started up the truck again and began to drive back to the city, he connected a wireless radio headset to his commlink, and opened a channel that he had not had to use in years. He hoped that the line was still open and secure after all this time, and was relieved when he heard a familiar voice answer on the other end.

"Hello, is that Tim Marx?" he asked. "It's Alan Tyler here... Yeah, I know, it's been a long time since I last spoke to you, but I need your help... Would you be able to come meet me in Seattle, as soon as you can? I know you're probably busy, but it's kind of urgent... Are you sure? I won't be interrupting anything? ... Well, if you're sure... You're a champion, mate. I've always thought so... I mean, besides _that_ time... Well, anyway, I'm staying at flat 14, Weybridge Heights. I'll see you then. Talk to you later." With that, he closed the line.

"Who's that?" Miki asked.

"Just a guy I know," Alan replied. "Hopefully he'll be able to sort out a few things."

Miki just nodded, thinking it best not to pry into Alan's private matters on this occasion. She just looked out of the windshield as the city came ever closer to them. As the sun continued to rise, it at least looked like it was going to be a nice day today, not that anybody would notice that in the Seattle sprawl.

***

The day that followed was painful for Alan. His team members were full of questions about what had happened to him, Miki and Orga last night. Alan had omitted a number of details from his account, such as the true nature of Kaiser and any mention of their blood bond, though he stressed the fact that Orga had died trying to save him. All of them had reacted in their own ways. Zapper was indifferent to it all, while Berokash was disappointed that he hadn't had a shot at Kaiser himself. Rah'zahl muttered to himself, no doubt sending a prayer to the Loa, while Sparks seemed more sympathetic.

"Ach, tha's a shame," he had said. "He were beginnin' tae gro' on me."

Obatala said nothing, but nodded, an understanding look on his face. Alan could guess why Obatala seemed so understanding; he knew of the bond between them, though he could not guess at the real reason behind it. Miki of course had concurred with Alan's version of events. Alan was grateful that she had not decided to add anything to his account or raise any awkward questions. She seemed to understand the gravity of all that she was caught up in.

The rest of the day was spent arranging Miki's 'disappearance'. They made it look like she was among the victims of the 'brain-blast killer', as those in the sprawl came to call it. Alan only hoped that Saeder-Krupp did not decide to follow up on this event, for he wasn't sure how long their story would hold together under intense scrutiny. Sparks had given her a job as a barmaid at the Wild at Heart, where she lived under the pseudonym of Akima Kunimoto, her shadowrunner call-sign being 'Psyche-lock'.

The next day, Alan had only been awake for about ten minutes when there was a knock on his apartment door. He had had very little sleep and was exhausted, and had barely clothed himself and dragged a comb through his hair when he went to answer the door. Looking through the peep-hole in the door, Alan saw a human Caucasian man, with blond hair and sea-blue-green eyes. He was dressed in a pair of faded jeans, a pair of tennis shoes that looked well-worn, and a very loud Hawaiian shirt decorated with plants and flowers. He wore a plain white T-shirt under his Hawaiian shirt, and also had a pair of green-tinted glasses tipped on his forehead. Alan could recognise that dress code anywhere, so he unlocked the door and allowed his visitor in.

"Detective Marx," he addressed his visitor as. He closed the door behind him as Timothy Marx stepped into the living room. The apartment was small, but not prohibitive; there was enough room for Alan to fill it with all kinds of odd knick-knacks, such as an old-fashioned stereo system and vintage videogame consoles. The walls were decorated with very old movie posters in frames, and in one corner was a basic trideo system. Marx smirked slightly; he could tell instantly that Alan was not a fan of modern technology.

"Nice to see you in the sprawl," Alan continued. "I take it you sussed my new pretty quickly?"

"You can't keep secrets from me, Alan," Marx winked. "I am a detective, after all. I'm disappointed that you didn't seem to trust the line I gave you a bit more; I doubt you'll find a more secure one in general circulation."

"Yeah, well," Alan shrugged, "you never know who's listening these days." He crossed over to the kitchen and began pulling out mugs and filling up a pot of coffee. "Can I get you anything?" he called. "I've got tea, coffee, beer..."

"Just coffee for me, thanks," Marx replied. He picked up one of the papers scattered about on the coffee table. The document was part of a file labelled 'Organiser G-1: Beta Experiment'. Alan had been reading through it last night. He also saw that a large Ruger Super Warhawk magnum was on the table, as well as a monofilament whip currently encased in its haft.

"I hope you have a permit for those weapons," he called, his tone sounding quite serious.

"Hey," Alan retorted, his back turned to Marx while he made the coffee, "You know full well what I have to do to get by these days. You just can't get out of 'cop mode', can you? Speaking of which, what's with the whole Miami get-up? Seriously, you should get a new wardrobe, mate, you still look like you dress in the..."

As he turned around holding two mugs of scalding hot coffee, he fell silent and froze in place. For Marx – or Manda, as his real name was - had decided to change into his true form, that of a large, serpent-like eastern dragon, with sapphire-blue scales and a mane of green hair. His lengthy body was uncoiled, and light played off his scales sending a kaleidoscope of colours around the walls. He was still reading the file, his finned tail tapping lightly off the floor. He was still wearing his Hawaiian shirt, T-shirt and glasses. There were a few seconds of silence, until Manda turned his reptilian head to look at Alan, gazing at him with his orange eyes, a half-smile spreading across his face.

"_Sorry, what were you saying?"_ he said, in mock politeness. _"Something about my attire, perhaps?"_

Alan just snorted, shaking his head. "Never mind," he said, handing a mug of steaming coffee to Manda's outstretched claw. He walked around the sofa until he was stood opposite the dragon. He decided against sitting down, for he wasn't sure if Manda would do the same and they had serious issues to discuss. Before that, however, Alan decided to try and break the ice.

"So how are things?" he asked. "What's the latest news from your end?"

"_Well, ever since the Caribbean League took control of the southern tip of Florida," _Manda began_, "crime has gone up considerably. It's hard to keep track of things. I seem to be the only Great Dragon willing to go into law enforcement to try to clean up the scum down there and make it safer for average people. Though, even having a dragon on their side still doesn't help much in that. I feel even the scum has reached the other cops as well. I'm possibly the only guy on the force that isn't corruptible and still stands by the goodness of citizens, if there's any of that anymore."_

He glanced over at the files on the coffee table, and then turned back to Alan, his expression becoming more serious.

_"I suspect this is not a social call, Alan,"_ he stated. _"I could easily poke through your mind and find out what you really want myself, but I know you'd prefer to say it yourself, so out with it. What's this all about?"_

Alan sighed. He was afraid Manda would want to get straight to business. He set down his mug on the coffee table and picked up the Organiser G-1 file.

"Do you remember that there were two others who were injected with Godzilla's cells that day?" he asked. Manda nodded in reply.

"Well," Alan sighed, before continuing, "I saw them, or rather what they had become. Both Joel and Tetsuo. The experiments, coupled with the Awakening, affected them far worse than me. I mean, you remember the trouble I had during the Awakening, but they didn't have anyone to help them through those times. They were on their own..."

After that, Alan continued to talk, relating the events of that fateful night. He explained how Joel and Tetsuo had been 'reborn' as Orga and Kaiser, of Kaiser's ability to manipulate the crystals he'd found, and ultimately of their deaths. When he came round to recounting Kaiser's madness and determination to destroy everything, Alan hesitated. It still hurt him to think that one of his best friends had turned into such a terrible creature.

"I just don't understand it..." he said. "I knew Tetsuo very well. He couldn't have just flipped out like that. I know he had been through a lot, but he still seemed rational until he encountered those crystals..."

It was then he noticed that Manda was looking distracted. He was looking through something on his commlink that Alan couldn't see.

"Wait," Alan said, "what do you know that I don't?" He paused a moment as something came to his memory. "Come to think of it, Kaiser himself said I didn't know Tetsuo as well as I thought I did..."

"_Alan..."_ Manda said, sighing as he did so. _"I would have shown you this sooner, but it only seems relevant now. I don't know if you'll forgive me for keeping secrets from you; call it a bad habit I picked up from Kiryuu. Check your email,"_ he continued, looking up from his commlink. _"I have something that might explain a few things."_

Confused, Alan turned around and picked up his commlink from a side-table. He switched it on and logged into his email account. He rarely got emails, but in the inbox he found a message from Manda. Opening the attachment, Alan found a large detailed file, complete with images of Tetsuo's weary-looking human face.

"What is this?" Alan asked, clearly puzzled.

"_A copy of Mr. Tetsuo Yagame's medical records,"_ Manda replied. _"After we first met, I did some digging around and looked into your friends' backgrounds. It seemed especially prudent after I heard rumours from Japan about our old friends the Crisis Control Intelligence agency..."_

"Wait a minute..." Alan interrupted. "Rumours?! You mean you knew that Tetsuo and Joel had escaped?!"

"_I didn't know for certain, Alan,"_ Manda replied calmly, _"and I had too much on my plate to go and confirm said rumours myself."_

"So why didn't you tell me then?!" Alan retorted, his anger rising. "I could have gone and looked into it for you!"

"_I had no way of contacting you back then,"_ Manda replied, _"and before you ask Kiryuu wouldn't tell me how to find you. I remember him saying that we were to let you get on with your own life. He said that he would respect your wishes, and I stress that they were your wishes, to leave you alone."_ He folded his arms across his chest and reared himself, so that he was now almost touching the ceiling. _"Don't get angry with me because Kiryuu was doing what you wanted for once."_

Alan's mouth flapped open and closed like a goldfish, but no sound came out. Then he just let out a frustrated sigh and fell silent. He had been looking for a good way to retort to what Manda was saying, until he realised he could not.

"_Alan,"_ Manda continued, lowering himself back down to Alan's height, _"I am sorry I didn't tell you before, but by the time we came into contact again the rumours had long been silenced. None of them were substantial to begin with, full of holes and unreliable witnesses. I doubt even you would have been able to place much stock in such rumours._

"_Anyway, it seems your friend Tetsuo had some serious anger management issues when he was younger, so much so that he had to attend various seminars and undergo a number of experimental treatments to control his anger. The trouble was that the treatments worked too well; the sheer scale of the repression of that anger caused him to develop a split personality, one which the doctors described as 'vicious, inhibition-less and demonic' when this personality showed itself during treatment. He had to take further treatments, including the use of inhibitors, to keep this other personality at bay, and for a time the treatment seemed to be successful. This personality gave itself a name to distinguish itself from Tetsuo, who he hated with a vengeance. I'm sure you can guess what that name is."_

"Kaiser..." Alan said, his eyes growing wide.

"_Exactly,"_ Manda said. _"Kaiser must have risen again after Tetsuo accidentally ingested the crystals and they bonded with him. From the way you described them, they seem to heighten emotion, especially negative emotion, and affect the perception of sentient beings. I must admit I have not heard of any life-form like this. I know others who may be able to look into it, though they sound very dangerous from what you have told me. They will need to be destroyed if that's the case."_

Alan nodded, though now there was a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. If Tetsuo had not been corrupted by the crystals, he didn't doubt that it would be Tetsuo he would have met, and not Kaiser. If that had happened, neither he nor Joel would have had to die, nor would Alan and Manda be having this conversation.

"While you're at it," Alan said, quickly getting to the main reason he had called Manda, "I have a couple of favours I need to ask of you." With that, he picked up the gun and the whip from the coffee table and held them up for Manda to get a better look.

"In case I end up fighting something like Kaiser again," he continued, "I need to be ready. You know a lot about Technomancy; I've seen the sort of toys you use. Would you be able to modify these to allow Technomantic upgrades? I can't help but feel I need all the help I can get."

Manda's orange eyes grew wide and a snarl crawled up his scaly lips.

"_No!" _he bellowed. _"Absolutely not! No matter how much Malcho thinks, humans aren't ready to use Technomancy. I will not upgrade your weapons even for this task. The risks are too great."_

"Manda," Alan retorted, doing his best to keep his voice level, "I've only made it this far through getting lucky. I was very lucky to get out of Chicago before that was quarantined, and if it hadn't been for Orga I wouldn't be standing here right now telling you about what happened with Kaiser. I might not be so lucky next time. You and I know full well that there are more dangerous things out there than gangs and the corporations. What about when King Ghidorah returns? I have to be ready in case anything like that happens again, even if it means taking that risk. Right now, these," he continued, gesturing at the weapons on the coffee table, "are just 'bows and arrows against the lightning', so to speak."

"_The answer is still no!" _Manda bellowed. _"I will not modify or build anything with Technomancy. Whatever problems you'll get yourself into, you've only brought them on yourself and Technomancy will not be your get out scot-free card."_

Manda saw a look of scorn on Alan's face and he sighed for a moment.

"_It's too damned dangerous," _the Eastern Dragon said. _"And as for King Ghidorah... If he does return, it'll be centuries before we even see any signs of him. Dunkelzahn made sure of that. You'll be long dead and buried when the Hydra King comes back."_

"Oh, and what makes you so sure of that?" Alan retorted, trying to keep his voice level but failing to mask the sarcasm. "Is dear granddad Kiryuu going to come along and chop my head off one day? I wouldn't expect anything less."

Alan released a deep sigh, shaking his head. He hadn't expected Manda to be so stubborn, and he was somewhat stung by that comment of bringing these things upon himself. He hadn't asked to be made into a mutant, hadn't asked for his friends to suffer their fate...

Well, if Manda wanted to play hardball...

"Alright, fine," Alan snarled, shaking his head. "Forget I asked. I can't force you into this, after all." He turned and picked up his commlink, making sure Manda could see it.

"Of course you should realise," Alan continued, his tone becoming brighter, "that the minute you walk out my door I'll be booking an appointment with El Malcho. I'm sure he'll be happy to set me up, and I think he'd be interested in hearing how you were unwilling to help a friend in need. Either way, you can't win."

"_Malcho?!"_ Manda exclaimed, snorting loudly. _"Then either he'll be dining on mutant soup tonight, or he'll get you killed when his latest Technomantic cock-up goes wrong. Either way, it's your funeral."_

"If I didn't think that, I would have gone to him first," Alan replied. "Look," he went on, becoming more business-like, "I can't force you into this, but if you won't do this for me as a favour, maybe we can do a trade. If you do this for me then I'll get my team, we'll head down to Florida for a while and take care of any little pest problems you have free of charge. Sounds to me like you need help from people not hampered by the law. I'm not afraid to do what needs to be done; you're not the only one who picked up Kiryuu's bad habits."

"_So I've noticed,"_ Manda replied, shaking his head with narrowed eyes in Alan's direction. _"Now you're asking me to take bribes and break protocol."_

"It's not a bloody bride," Alan said. "I'm just asking for a fair exchange of services. Tit-for-tat, and all that. Nobody even needs to know you called us in, do they? At least this way, everyone's a winner. So do we have a deal?" He extended his hand, as if offering to shake Manda's.

The dragon snarled. It was clear to him that Alan was too stubborn to admit defeat on the idea. With that said, things were tough down south, making that offer extremely tempting. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he extended a claw and shook Alan's hand, though his expression made it clear that he wasn't happy.

"_This is still a bad idea, I'll have you know,"_ he snarled. _"Technomancy is too dangerous. It carries too many risks. I'll try and steer you through the minefield as best I can, but after that you're on your own. Don't come crying to me when it all goes belly-up."_

"You don't need to worry about that," Alan replied, shrugging. "I didn't even go crying to my own parents that much as a kid."

"_Regardless,"_ Manda continued sternly, _"do not expect me to bail you out of whatever problems come your way. I clearly cannot make you take this matter seriously enough."_

"Alright, alright," Alan groaned, beginning to get fed up of Manda's lecturing. "Can we talk about something else?"

"_Gladly,"_ Manda replied, draining more from his coffee. _"While we're making deals, there's another condition I want to attach."_

Alan paused, looking rather surprised. "Shoot," he said.

"_I want you,"_ the dragon stated, _"to allow me to exhume the bodies of Kaiser and Orga. I will take them to Kiryuu for safekeeping. You know better than anyone how he feels about experimentation with G-cells; it's better that they stay safe with him than be left out near a backroad for someone to find them."_

Alan sighed. "I guess I couldn't avoid getting him involved forever..." he muttered. He looked up at Manda and nodded. "Alright, you have permission."

Manda nodded. Alan drained the coffee that was left in his cup before he continued.

"There's one other thing," he said. "There was a woman with me when Kaiser and Orga died; she's a very confused psychic called Miki Saegusa. Kaiser did... something... to her that night. Now she can't stop seeing things, and..." He paused for a moment, sighing. "She sees me as Godzilla now whenever she claps eyes on me. I had to tell her about the experiments, after what she saw. Do you think you'd be able to talk to her, help her understand what she's caught up in better? I only know half the story, after all, and all that psychic stuff's really your field."

"_I don't know why she sees you as Godzilla," _Manda chuckled. _"Despite the fact you're starting to look more like him every time I see you. But you're not Godzilla. I will try to tell her, but perhaps showing her would be better. After all, Godzilla isn't really dead."_

"Thanks," Alan replied. "Just try to break it to her gently, will you? You nearly gave me a heart attack when you first turned into a dragon right in front of me... That and a broken jaw."

Manda snorted, smirking. _"As I recall,"_ he said, _"you were more interested in picking a fight with Kiryuu than you were with letting me help you on that occasion. I also distinctly recall you referring to me as an 'overgrown monitor lizard'."_

Alan folded his arms, looking sheepish. "Why did the Atlanteans have to give you such a good memory?" he asked, in mock exasperation.

"_They never gave me that," _Manda snorted. _"Great memory comes from being a dragon. But if anything, it's just to piss you humans off."_ With that, he drained what was left of his coffee, set the mug down on the table and picked up the two weapons.

"Here, use this," Alan said, throwing an old backpack to Manda. The bag was old but durable, and Manda was able to fit the gun and the whip into it easily. He swung the now-full bag over his shoulder as he melted back into his human form. Alan also gave him the address of the Wild at Heart, where Miki was currently staying.

"Very well, Alan," Manda said, business-like. "I'm still not convinced these are good ideas, but I'll do what I can. Technomancy is an exact science, and I have to get it right. I'll give them to you after you've kept your end of the bargain; not before." He turned towards the door. "I'll let myself out. The sooner I start these errands, the sooner they're finished."

"Manda, wait," Alan said, prompting Manda to turn and face him again. There was still one nagging doubt in the back of his mind, a doubt that had been there since Kaiser had implanted it there with his words.

"We..." he said, looking concerned. "We did the right things, didn't we? Back when King Ghidorah came, I mean. There really wasn't anything else we could have possibly done, right?"

Manda turned his head up for a moment, as if he was looking through the ceiling and out into the sky.

"I can only give the same answer now that I gave you last time you asked," he said. "There are things in this universe that no matter how old you are, you can never truly understand them. The only thing I can say is only time will tell."

With that, Manda winked an eye and then proceeded out of the apartment, closing the door behind him. After he had gone, Alan sank down onto the sofa, releasing a heavy sigh. He was glad that Manda had come and now things were being sorted out, but he still felt drained after that night's events. He kept turning it over and over in his mind; the crystals, Kaiser's madness, Orga's devotion and sacrifice... He tried to stop himself dwelling on the matter, but he found that hard to do, given just how close he had been to the two humans those creatures used to be.

He picked up the photograph of the trio on their motorbikes that was on the coffee table, the same one that he had shown Orga that night. He peered at it for a while, seeing their unchanging faces, knowing that the photo's occupants would always be happy, and would live forever without a care in the world. He hung his head, sighing deeply, his eyes closed. He tried to keep that photograph locked in his mind, for it was one of the few things he had to remind him of happier times and didn't wish to lose it.

"See you at the crossroads," he said under his breath.

**THE END**


End file.
